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IxiIEOLOniCAL  SEillNia-Y.! 

I)     Princeton,  N.  J.  jj 

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THOUGHTS  ON  RELIGION, 


AND  OTHER  SUBJECTS. 


BY  BLAISE  PASCAL, 


A  NEW  TRANSLATION,  AND  A  MEMOIR  OF  HIS  LIFE, 


BY  THE  REV.  EDWARD  CRAIG,  A.  M.  OXON, 


MEMBER  OE  THE  WERNERIAN  SOCIETY. 


TO  WHICH  ARE  ADDED 


INTRODUCTORY  AND  OTHER  NOTICES. 


First  American  edition. 
AMHERST,  MASS. 

PUBLISHED  BY  J.  S.  AND  C.  ADAMS. 
1829. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2011  witii  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://www.archive.org/details/thoughtsonreligiOOpas 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Ijvtroductort  Notices,         .         .         .         .         .         .  5 

Memoir  or  Blaise  Pascal, 13 

Chap.  I.  On  Self-Kuowledge, 63 

II.  The  Vanity  of  Man,    ......  69 

-     III.  The  Weakness  of  Man,            ....  73 

IV .  The  Misery  of  Man,             ....  86 

V.  The  wonderful  contrarieties  which  are  found 
in  Man  with  respect  to  truth,  happiness,   and 
many  other  subjects,        ....         .95 

VI.  On  avowed  indifference  to  Religion,     .         .  102^ 

VII.  That  the  belief  of  a  God  is  the  true  wisdom,    .  110 

Vm.  Marks  of  the  True  Religion,         ...  116 

IX.  Proofs  of  the  True  Religion,  drawn  from   the 

contrarieties  in  Man,   and  from  the   doctrines 

of  Original  Sin,              .....  125 

X.  The  due  subordination  and  use  of  Reason,        .  134 

XI.  The  character  of  a  Man  who  is  wearied  with 
seeking  God  by  reason  only,  and  who  begins 

to  read  the  Scriptures,     "  .         .         .         .  136 

XII.  The  Jews, 141 

XIII.  Of  Figures, 151 

XIV.  Jesus  Christ, 159 

XV.  Prophetical  proofs  of  Jesus  Christ,         .         .  163 

XVI.  Other  proofs  of  Jesus  Christ,      .         .         .,        .  170 

XVII.  The  purpose  of  God   to  conceal  himself  from 
some,  and  to  reveal  himself  to  others,           .  175 


V.  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

XVIII.   That  the  Religion  of  real  Christians,  and  real 

Jews,  is  one  and  the  same,          .         .         .  180 

XIX.  We  cannot  know  God   savingly,  but  by  Jesus 
Christ, 182 

XX.  Thoughts  on  Miracles,  .         .         .         .186 

XXI.  Miscellaneous  Thoughts  on  Religion,          .  193 
XXII.  Thoughts  on  Death,   extracted  from  a  Letter 

of  M.  Pascal  on  the   occasion  of  the   death  of 

his  Father, 227 

XXIII.  A  Prayer  for  the  sanctified  use  of  Affliction  by 
Disease, 237 

XXIV.  A  comparison  of  Ancient  and  Modern    Chris- 
tians,           246 

XXV.  On  the  conversion  of  a  Sinner,         .         .          .  252 

XXVt.  Reasons  for  some  opinions  of  the  People,         .  257 

XXVII.  Detached  Moral  Thoughts,         ...  263 

XXVIII.  Thoughts  on  Philosophical  and  Literary  subjects,  277 

XXIX.  On  Epictetus  and  Montaigne,         ...  286 

XXX.  On  the  condition  of  the  Great,           .         .         ._  298 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTICES. 


The  name  of  Pascal  is  associated  with  all  that  is  splendid 
and  illustrious  in  the  highest  order  of  genius.  The  brilliant 
movements  of  his  mind  in  the  days  of  his  childhood  and  youth, 
have  no  parallel,  except  in  the  extraordinary  precosity  of  such 
remarkable  personages  as  Crichton  and  Chatterton.  But  his 
claim  to  our  admiration  does  not  rest  upon  his  genius.  It  rests 
upon  that  sublime  devotion,  which  consecrated  to  the  Infinite 
Mind,  all  the  capacities  and  glories  of  that  genius.  No 
Christian  can  peruse  the  "  Thoughts"  which  follow,  without 
being  constantly  reminded,  that  the  great  doctrines  of  universal 
depravity  and  redemption  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  circulated 
their  vital  influences  thorough  every  vein  of  the  writer"'s  con- 
templations and  emotions.  His  "  Prayer  for  a  sanctified  use 
of  affliction  by  disease,"  presents  a  soul  arrayed  in  the  vesture 
of  a  t:'aviour*'s  righteousness.  No  chapter  in  the  life  of  any 
uninspired  man,  can  furnish  a  brighter  and  purer  i]lustra.tion  of 
the  "  beauty  of  holiness." 

The  original  manuscripts  of  Pascal's  Thoiights,  are  still  pre- 
served in  the  Royal  Library  of  Paris. — In  1670,  the  M.  M.  de 
Port  Royal  published  an  edition,  in  which  they  attempted  a 
classification  and  arrangement  of  the  confused  fragments,which 
Pascal  had  collected  for  a  great  work,  in  vindication. of  Chris- 
tianity. More  than  a  century  afterwards,  Condorcet,  a  com- 
panion of  D'Alembert  and  Voltaire,  published  an  edition, 
which,  although  superior  in  the  arrangement,  was  exceedingly 
imperfect  and  disreputable.  Not  contented  with  suppressing 
a  part  of  the.  thoughts,  and  with  corrupting  the  text,  he  pre- 
fixed a  hypocritical  eulogy  on  the  illustrious  author, — inserted 
an  essay  on  Pascal's  argument  for  a  future   state — commonly 


VI  IJVTRODUCTIOJf. 

ascribed  to  Fontenelle — in  which  a  Chinese  philosopher  is 
made  to  triumph  over  a  Christian  Missionary,—  and  also  added 
notes,  partly  written  by  ^liraself,  and  partly  extracted  from  the 
criticisms  of  Voltaire.  This  edition  was  anonymous.  Its 
whole  design  was  to  neutralize,  if  not  annihilate,  the  powerful 
influence  of  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  admired  advocates  of 
revealed  religion.  Two  years  after  (1778,)  Voltaire  himself 
put  forth  another  anonymous  edition,  accompanied  with  notes, 
and,  as  we  should  readily  suppose,  intended  to  accomplish  the 
same  object,  as  that  of  Condorcet.  He  had  previously  pub- 
lished strictures  on  the  ''  Thoughts,"  in  the  Lettres  ^nglaises. 
This  work  gave  so  much  offence,  that  a  copy  was  burned  at 
Paris  by  an  order  of  the  parliament,  and  the  author  himself 
narrowly  escaped  personal  punishment. 

In  1779,  M.  Bossut  confered  a  great  favor  upon  the  lovers 
of  elegant  literature  and  the  friends  of  Christianity,  by  editing 
an  edition  of  all  the  works  of  Pascal.  The  decline  of  Jesu- 
itical influence  rendered  it  unnecessary  to  suppress  some 
thoughts,  which  had  previously  been  withheld,  through  fear  of 
that  terrible  storm  of  wrath,  which  had  laid  in  ruins  the  hal- 
lowed retreats  at  Port  Royal.  M.  Bossut,  was  also  under  no 
temptation  to  follow  in  the  track  of  the  frigid  scepticism  of 
Condorcet,  or  the  reckless,  wanton  infidelity  of  Voltaire.  He 
printed  every  thing  which  he  could  find,  carefully  collating 
the  whole  with  the  original  papers.  Prefixed  to  the  edition 
was  a  just  and  honorable  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  author. 

M.  Renouard,  published  his  first  edition  of  Pascal's  thoughts, 
in  the  year  1803.  As  an  introduction  to  the  work,  he  printed 
the  interesting  essay  of  M.  Bossut.  But,  strange,  as  it  may 
seem,  he  thought  fit  to  append  the  scandalous  notes  of  Con- 
dorcet and  Voltaire  ;  although  he  is  said  to  be  a  man,  whose 
moral  sentiments  are  by  no  means  inclined  to  infidelity.  Since 
1803,  M.  Renouard,  has  published  one  edition  at  least,  and 
we  believe,  several. 

In  1819,  there  appeared  at  Paris  an  edition,  which  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Craig,  considered  so  much  more  complete,  than  any  which 
had  preceded,  that  he  deemed  it  worthy  of  a  translation. 


lA-^TRODUCTlON. 


After  remarking  upon  the  imperfection  of  the  only  English 
translations,  which  were   in    existence,   he   proceeds   to  say : 

"  A  fresh  and  a  complete  Translation  of  the  whole  of  the 
published  Thoughts  became  desirable,  that  Pascal  might  be 
really  known  in  this  country  to  the  English  reader,  according 
to  his  real  merits.  As  far  as  the  moral  and  religious  Thoughts 
extended,  this  has  been  now  attempted. 

To  translate  Thoughts  so  inaccurately  and  imperfectly  ex- 
pressed as  many  of  these  are,  and  to  give  a  close  and  literal 
rendering  that  would,  at  the  same  time,  convey  the  sense, 
which,  in  the  original,  is  really  in  some  instances  enigmatical 
and  questionable,  was  a  task  of  serious  difficulty.  The  Trans- 
lator does  not  profess  to  have  accomplished  this.  If  he  has 
done  something  towards  the  ultimate  attainment  of  such  a 
faithful  version  of  this  valuable  book,  he  will  feel  thankful. 
And  in  the  mean  time,  he  will  readily  avail  himself  of  the 
critical  remarks  of  those  who  may  differ  from  him,  as  to  his 
conception  of  the  Author's  idea  in  any  place,  with  a  view  to 
reconsider  the  passage,  in  case  the  work  should  ever  reach 
another  edition. — He  has  certainly  not  satisfied  himself. 

The  first  three  chapters  of  the  original  work  have  been  left 
out,  as  not  being  connected  immediately  Avith  its  general  object. 
And  the  Translator  does  not  hesitate  to  avow,  that  he  has  with- 
held a  few  passages,  which  occur  occasionally,  an  the  subject 
of  the  peculiar  tenets  of  the  Romish  Church  ;  because  he  did 
not  feel  warranted,  by  the  mere  wish  to  record  faithfully  in  a 
translation,  all  the  sentiments  of  an  Author,  to  circulate  what 
he  believes  to  be  dangerous  error,  and  which,  from  the  strength 
and  accuracy  of  other  statements  among  which  it  was  found, 
might  lead  some  weak  minds  astray.  Had  the  task  of  orig- 
inal publication  devolved  on  him,  he  would  have  felt  differ- 
ently :  for  it  is  right  that  every  man  should  have  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity of  giving  his  opinions  to  the  world.  But  in  making  a 
translation  for  the  benefit  of  a  subsequent  age,  it  is  perfectly 
equitable  to  select  that  which  common  consent  has  stamped 
with  its  approbation,  and  to  leave  out  the  few  remains  of  pre- 
judice and  unscriptural  opinion,  which  might  borrow,  from  the 


via  ia^troductiojV. 

sanction  of  such  a  name,  an  influence  that  they  ought  not  to 
have. 

Finally,  the  Translator  does  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  the  in- 
tervals of  time,  which  the  duties  of  an  active  pastoral  charge 
allowed  him  to  give  to  this  work,  and  to  the  meditations  which 
its  pages  suggested,  have  been  among  the  happiest  and  most 
gratifying  portions  of  his  life  ;  and,  that  if  this  version,  though 
imperfect,  shall  afford  even  a  moderate  share  of  such  gratifi- 
cation to  those  readers  who  are  shut  out  from  the  pages  of  the 
the  original,  or  shall  lead  others  to  seek  for  that  pleasure  in 
the  original  text,  he  will  have  realized  an  ample  reward/" 

It  must  have  been  noticed,  that  the  successive  editions  of 
the  Thoughts,  contained  more  or  less  of  new  matter,  in  conse- 
quence of  new  investigations  of  the  original  manuscripts. 
These  are  said  to  be  very  illegible.  Some  thoughts  have  never 
yet  appeared,  because  they  were  left  so  unfinished,  that  they 
are  merely  fragments  of  fragments.  M.  Bossut  in  the  preface 
abovementioned,  remarks, — "  That  it  is  not  that  these  do  not 
contain  some  most  excellent  considerations,  and  are  not  suited 
to  furnish  grand  views  to  such  as  can  well  understand  them. 
But  as  the  editors  deemed  it  inexpedient  to  elucidate  and  finish 
,  them,  they  would  be  entirely  useless,  if  printed  as  they  were 
found. ^'  The  following  is  an  example.  "  A  tradesman  who 
discourses  of  Tidies,  an  attorney  who  discourses  of  war,  of 
royalty,  ^c.  But  the  rich  discourse  well  of  riches,  the  king 
discourses  with  indifference  of  a  large  gift,  which  he  is  about 
to  bestow,  and  God  discourses  well  of  God.t" 

According  to  the  same  writer,  it  appears,  "that  Pascal  had 
made  some  very  particular  remarks  upon  the  style  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  principally  upon  the  style  of  the    New   Testa- 


*Mr.  C's  Preface  was  dated,  June  1st,  1825. 

t  "  Un  artisan  qui  parle  des  richesses,  un  procureur  qui  parle 
de  la  guerre,  de  la  royaute,  etc.  jNIais  le  riche  parle  bien  dcs 
richesses,  le  roi  parle  froidement  d'uu  grand  donqu'il  vieul  de 
faire,  et  Uieu  parle  bien  de  Dieu." 


IIVTK.ODUCTIO:!?.  VS. 

nient.  He  there  discovered  beauties,  which  perhaps  no  one 
before  him  liad  remarked.  He  admired,  among  other  charac- 
teristics, the  naivete,  the  simplicity,  and  so  to  "speak,  the  in- 
difference (la  froideur)  with  which  Jesus  Christ  appears  to 
discourse  of  subjects  the  most  elevated,  exalted,  sublime ;  as 
for  example,  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  glories  of  the  saints  in 
heaven,  the  torments  of  hell, — on  which  he  does  not  expatiate, 
as  has  been  the  practice  of  the  Fathers  and  others,  who  have 
written  upon  these  topics.  The  true  cause  of  this,  says  Pascal, 
is,  that  the  things  which  are  in  fact  infinitely  great  and  sublime 
in  our  estimation,  are  not  so  with  respect  to  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
it  cannot  be  considered  strange,  that  he  spoke  of  them  without 
astonishment  and  admiration.  Since  we  may  observe  that  a 
general  speaks  with  the  utmost  simplicity  and  without  emotion, 
of  the  siege  of  an  important  place,  and  the  winning  of  a  great 
battle, — and  a  king  speaks  with  indifference  of  a  sum  of  5  or 
10  millions,  while  a  private  citizen,  a  mechanic,  cannot  speak 
of  it,  except  in  terms  of  great  exaggeration."" 

"Such,"  continues  M.  Bossut,  "  is  the  thought  contained  in 
the  few  words,  which  compose  the  fragment :  and  to  a  reason- 
able and  candid  mind,  this  consideration,  added  to  others  of 
a  similar  character,  may  certainly  furnish  some  evidence  of  the 
divinity  of  Jesus  Christ." 

This  fragment  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that 
Pascal  possessed  no  ordinary  powers  of  discrimination.  The 
argument  for  our  Savior's  divinity,  deduced  from  the  manner,  in 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  discourse  upon  the  most  exalted 
and  tremendous  themes,  cannot  fail  to  exite  emotions  of  moral 
grandeur. 

From  the  fragments  jast  quoted,  it  is  readily  perceived,  that 
Pascal  committed  his  thoughts  to  paper,  merely  as  hints  for 
future  effort.  It  will  be  seen  by  the  Memoir,that  he  was  afflict- 
ed with  a  most  distressing  disease,  during  all  the  time,  which 
he  devoted  to  meditation  on  the  different  topics,  which  he  pur- 
posed to  discuss  in  his  contemplated  work.  He  wrote  his 
thoughts  without  any  method,  and  on  loose  pieces  of  paper, — 
wishing  merely,  as  it  would  seem  to  assist  his  memory, when  he 


X  IJTTRODIXCTIOIf. 

should  come  to  the  regular  execution  of  his  plan. — Hence  it  is 
not  strange,  that,  as  Death  called  him  away,  while  his  work 
was  in  its  incipient  stages,  he  should  have  left  many  thoughts 
so  imperfectly  expressed,  as  to  be  very  obscure,  if  not  unin- 
telligible. 

The  Translator,  it  will  be  noticed,  has  omitted  the  first 
Chapters  of  the  original,  because  they  pertain  to  subjects  not 
intimately  related  to  religion.  The  first  Chapter,  which  ap- 
pears in  the  French  editions,  relates  to  "  Authority  in  matters 
of  science.'"  After  adverting  to  the  reverence  usually  cher- 
ished in  regard  to  the  ancients,  Pascal  points  out  a  distinction, 
which  should  always  be  made,  when  we  investigate  historical, 
and  when  we  investigate  philosophical  truth.  In  matters  of 
history,  we  must  appeal  to  authors :  in  matters  of  science, 
although  we  may  appeal  to  authors,  we  are  not  to  be  satisfied 
with  their  opinions.  Science  is  progressive.  Man  is  continually 
improving  upon  the  labors  of  his  predecessors.  ''  Hence  it 
happens,  by  a  special  prerogative,  that  not  only  each  individ- 
ual daily  advances  in  knowledge,  but  all  men  together  make 
a  constant  progress,  as  the  universe  increases  in  age, — so  that 
what  is  true  of  the  different  periods  in  the  life  of  an  individual, 
is  also  true  in  reference  to  a  succession  of  individuals.  The 
whole  series  of  men,  therefore,  during  the  course  of  ages, 
should  be  regarded  as  one  man,  constantly  subsisting  and 
learning.  From  this  consideration,  we  perceive  how  little 
reason  we  have  to  respect  the  ancient  philosophers  :  for  as  old 
age  is  the  age,  which  is  most  distant  from  infancy,  who  does 
not  see,  that  the  old  age  of  this  universal  man  (de  cet  homme 
universel)  should  not  be  sought  in  the  periods  near  his  infancy, 
but  in  those  which  are  most  remote  ?" 

The  second  chapter  contains  "  Reflections  on  Geometry  in 
general."  The  third  chapter,entitledthe  "Art  of  Persuasioa,"is 
little  else  than  an  application  of  the  leading  principles  deduced 
in  the  second.  Pascal's  remarks  on  the  meaning  of  terms,  the 
rules  of  definition,  principles  of  reasoning,  &Lc.  are  such  as  we 
should  have  anticipated  from  a  man,  whose  genius  for  abstract 
science,   was  probably  never   surpassed.      They  call   to  our 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

mind  some  of  the  most  valuable  discussions  of  the  late  Dugald 
Stewart. 

The  reader  of  this  work  must  he  apprized,  that  the  author 
has  not  in  these  pages  presented  a  complete  discussion  of  any- 
one subject.  "We  have  a  collection  of  thoughts  on  a  great  va- 
riety of  topics,  all  of  which  have  more  or  less  reference  to 
human  nature  and  religion.  The  first  twenty  chapters  contain 
suggestions  and  reasonings,  which  were  doubtless  designed  to 
constitute  a  part  of  the  magnificent  work,  of  which  he  once 
extemporaneously  sketched  the  outlines,  in  a  conversation  with 
some  of  his  intimate  friends.  The  remaining  chapters  are  of 
a  more  miscellaneous  character. 

The  plan  of  Pascal's  argument  for  a  vindication  of  revealed 
religion,  though  not  perhaps  entirely  new,  has  all  the  fresh- 
ness and  vigor  of  genuine  originality.  From  what  he  was 
able  to  accomplish  during  the  intervals  of  extreme  bodily  suf- 
fering, for  a  few  years  previous  to  his  decease,  it  is  difiicult  for 
us  to  form  an  exaggerated  conception  of  the  probable  value  of 
the  work,  which  he  might  have  executed,  if  Divine  Providence 
had  seen  fit  to  grant  him  "  the  ten  years  of  health,"  which  he 
considered  requisite  to  the  completion  of  his  plan.  But  in- 
stead of  bewailing  what  we  have  not,  it  becomes  us  to  be 
grateful  to  God  for  what  we  have.  The  Thoughts  of  Pascal, 
under  all  the  disadvantages  of  their  presentation,  are  a  splen- 
did museum  of  intellectual  and  moral  truth. 

It  is  quite  probable,  that  some  who  read  these  pages,  may  find 
it  difiicult  to  acquiesce  in  the  portraiture,  which  the  writer 
has  given,  of  the  natural  features  of  human  character.  They 
may  feel  that  he  has  painted  the  panorama  of  human  life,  with 
too  many  lines  of  deformity  and  too  many  shades  of  darkness. 
And  perhaps  they  may  venture  to  charge  him  with  misanthro- 
py.— Pascal's  language  on  the  subject  of  human  misery,  is,  as 
we  honestly  think,  liable  to  some  exceptions.  And  we  have 
no  doubt,  that  there  is  a  sense,  in  which  Pascal  was  a  misan- 
thrope. He  was  so  thoroughly  versed  in  the  science  of  human 
nature,  that  he  well  understood  the  deceitfulness  and  desper- 
ate wickedness  of  the  human  heart.      He  therefore  most  cor- 


XU  INTRODirCTION. 

dially  hated  the  "old  man  which  is  corrupt  according  to  the  de- 
ceitful lusts," — and  most  cordially  loved  the  "new  man,  which 
after  God  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness."  This  is 
the  essence  and  extent  of  PascaPs  misanthropy.  Read  a 
Memoir  of  his  life,  and  then  ask,  whether  this  avowed  enemy 
of  moral  corruption,  was  not  worthy  to  be  a  disciple  of  Him 
who  preached  the  gospel  to  "  the  poor." 

It  is  not  to  be  disguised,  that  we  occasionally  detect  a  tinc- 
ture of  Popery  in  the  religious  sentiments  of  this  eminent  man. 
We  see  the  influence  of  the  Romish  Church,  in  the  rigor  of  his 
self-denial,  and  the  severity  of  his  mortifications.  We  also 
see  it  in  his  sentiments  on  miracles,  and  in  some  of  his  inter- 
pretations of  the  Scriptures.  Still  we  do  not  perceive  how  it 
is  possible  for  an  intelligent  and  candid  reader,  to  rise  from  the 
perusal  of  these  "  Thoughts,"  without  the  firmest  persuasion, 
that  Pascal  is  here  neither  a  Jansenist  nor  a  Catholic,  but  a 
Christian  and  a  champion  of  Christianity. 


MEMOIR 


BLAISE    PASCAL 


Although  the  facts  of  Pascal's  Life  cannot  but  be  very 
extensively  known,  it  seems  scarcely  correct  to  send  forth  a 
fresh  translation  of  his  Thoughts  to  the  world,  without  a  brief 
Memoir  of  that  extraordinary  genius. 

Blaise  Pascal  was  born  at  Clermont  in  Auvergne,  19th 
June,  1623.  His  father,  Stephen  Pascal,  was  first  president 
of  the  Court  of  Aids,  and  had,  by  his  wife,  Antoinette  Begon, 
three  other  children,  a  son  who  died  in  infancy,  and  two 
daughters;  Gilberte,  married  to  M.  Perier,  and  Jacqueline, 
who  took  the  veil  in  the  convent  of  Port  Royal  in  the  Fields, 
and  died  there  of  grief,  arising  from  the  persecutions  under 
which  that  community  suffered. 

Stephen  Pascal  was  a  superior  and  well  educated  man,  and 
possessed  an  extensive  knowledge  of  the  Law,  of  Mathematics, 
and  Natural  Philosophy  ;  to  which  he  added  the  advantages 
of  a  noble  birth,  and  of  manners  peculiarly  simple.  Till  the 
year  1626,  he  shared  with  an  amiable  wife,  during  the  intervals 
of  public  occupation,  the  duties  of  educating  his  family  ;  but  in 
that  year  she  died,  and  he  then  devoted  himself  exclusively 
to  this  object.  For  this  purpose  he  retired  from  office  ;  and 
having  continued  a  few  years  in  the  country,  in  the  year  1631, 
brought  his  family  to  Paris  to  complete  their  education. 
1 


14  MEMOIR.  OF  J5LAISE    PASCAL. 

The  attention  of  Stephen  Pascal  was,  of  course,  chiefly  oc- 
cupied with  his  son,  who  gave  promise,  at  a  very  early  age,  of 
superior  genius,  and  readily  received  the  elementary  principles 
of  language,  and  of  the  sciences  in  general ;  but  one  of  the 
earliest  features  of  those  talents  which  were  subsequently  de- 
veloped, was  the  eagerness,  and  the  nice,  and  accurate  dis- 
cernment with  which,  on  all  subjects,  he  sought  for  truth, 
and  which  would  not  allow  him  to  feel  satisfied  till  he  had 
found  it. 

The  circle  of  his  father's  acquaintance  was  of  a  superior 
order.  He  numbered  among  his  friends,  Mersenne,  Roberval, 
Carcavi,  Le  Pailleur,  &c.  At  their  occasional  meetings,  for 
the  discussion  of  scientific  subjects,  Blaise  Pascal  was  some- 
times allowed  to  be  present,  at  which  times  he  listened  with 
great  attention  to  what  passed,  and  thus  gradually  formed  the 
hkbit  of  scientific  research.  To  trace  effects  up  to  their 
causes,  was  one  of  his  chief  pleasures ;  and  it  is  stated,  that  at 
eleven  years  of  age,  having  heard  a  plate  give  forth,  on  its 
being  struck,  a  musical  vibration,  which  ceased  on  its  being 
touched  again,  he  applied  his  mind  to  the  subject  which  it 
presented  to  him,  and  at  length  produced  a  short  treatise  upon 
the  nature  of  sounds. 

His  father,  however,  fearful  that  this  evidently  strong  predi- 
lection for  scientific  pursuits  would  delay  his  progress  in  the 
attainment  of  classical  learning,  agreed  with  his  friends  that 
they  should  refrain  from  speaking  on  such  topics  in  his  pres- 
ence ;  and  this  opposition  to  his  evidently  ruling  tendency  was, 
on  principle,  carried  so  far,  that  on  his  making  an  application 
to  his  father  to  be  permitted  to  learn  Mathematics,  the  permis- 
sion was  positively  withheld,  till  he  should  have  mastered  the 
Greek  and  Latin  languages.  In  the  meantime,  he  obtained  no 
other  information  on  the  subject,  but  that  Geometry  was  a 
science  which  related  to  the  extension  of  bodies — that  it  taught 
the  mode  of  forming  accurate  figures,  and  pointed  out  the  rela- 
tions which  existed  between  them.  But  beyond  this  general 
information,  he  was  forbidden  to  inquire  ;  and  all  books  on  the 
subject  were  positively  forbidden  to  him. 


MEMOIR  or  BLAISE    PASCAL.  lo 

This  vague  definition,  however,  was  Ihe  ray  of  light  which 
guided  him  onward  in  Mathematical  study.  It;  became  the 
subject  of  continued  thought.  In  his  play  hours,  he  would, 
shut  himself  up  in  an  empty  room,  and  draw  with  chalk  on  the 
floor,  triangles,  parallelograms,  and  circles,  without  knov/ing 
their  scientific  names.  He  would  compare  these  several  fig- 
ures, and  would  examine  the  relations  that  their  several  lines 
bore  to  each  other ;  and  in  this  way,  he  gradually  arrived  at 
the  proof  of  the  fact,  that  the  sum  of  all  the  angles  of  a  triangle 
is  equal  to  two  right  angles,  which  is  the  thirty  second  proposi- 
tion of  the  first  book  of  Euclid.  The  young  geometer  had 
just  attained  this  point,  when  his  father  surprized  him,  deeply 
occupied  in  the  prohibited  study.  But  he  was  himself  no  less 
astonished  than  his  son,  when,  on  examining  into  the  nature  of 
his  occupation,  lie  ascertained  the  conclusion  to  which  he  had 
come  ;  and  on'  inquiring  how  he  arrived  at  it,  the  child  point- 
ed out  several  other  principles  which  he  had  previously  ascer- 
tained, and  at  length  stated  the  first  principles  which  he  had 
gathered  for  himself  in  the  way  of  axioms  and  definitions. 

To  control,  after  this,  such  evident  manifestations  of  superi- 
or mathematical  genius,  was  quite  out  of  the  question.  Every 
advantage  was  afibrded  to  him,  of  which  he  eagerly  availed  him- 
self. At  twelve  years  of  age,  he  read  through  the  Elements  of 
Euclid,  without  feeling  the  need  of  any  explanation  from 
teachers  ;  and  at  sixteen,  he  composed  a  treatise  on  Conic  Sec- 
tions, which  was  considered,  to  possess  very  extraordinary  merit. 
He  attained  rapidly  to  a  very  high  degree  of  knowledge  and  of 
celebrity  as  a  Mathematician  ;  and  before  the  age  of  nineteen, 
he  invented  the  famous  Arithmetical  Machine  which  bears 
his  name,  and  by  which,  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  me- 
chanical movement,  somewhat  similar  to  a  watch,  any  numeri- 
cal calculation  might  be  performed.  The  main  difiiculty  in 
Arithmetic  lies  in  finding  the  mode  of  arriving  at  the  desired 
result.  This  must  ever  be  a  purely  mental  operation  ;  but  th,e 
object  of  this  instrument  was,  that  in  all  those  numerical  oper- 
ations where  the  course  to  be  pursued  was  fixed  and  certain 
a  mechanical  process  might  relieve  the  mind  from  the  monoton- 
ous and  wearisome  labour  of  the  mere  detail  of  calculation,— 


16  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

PascaPs  invention  succeeded ;  but  it  was  found  too   cumbrous 
for  general  use. 

About  this  time,  Stephen  Pascal  was  appointed  the  Intendant 
of  Rouen,  to  which  place  he  removed  his  family.  He  re- 
mained there  seven  years  ;  and  during  that  period,  his  son  dili- 
gently pursued  his  studies,  although  it  was  quite  evident  that 
his  severe  application  had  already  aflfected  his  health,  and 
marked  him  with  the  symptoms  of  decline. 

Here  his  ardent  mind,  which  had  been  turned  during  his 
retirement  to  the  study  of  Physic,  occupied  itself  with  one  of 
the  most  striking  phenomena  of  the  natural  world,  and  did  not 
rest  till  he  had  elicited  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  it.  This 
phenomenon  was,  that  in  a  pump,  in  which  the  piston  played 
at  a  distance  of  more  than  thirty  two  feet  above  the  reservoir 
that  supplied  it,  the  water  rose  to  the  height  of  thirty  two  feet^ 
and  no  farther.  On  this  question,  Galileo  had  been  consulted; 
and  the  explanation  of  this  fact  which  was  offered  by  him  was, 
that  the  water  rose  to  a  certain  height  in  the  pipe,  because 
nature  abhorred  a  vacuum  ;  but  that  the  force  by  which  she 
resisted  a  vacuum  was  limited,  and  that  beyond  a  height  of  thir- 
ty two  feet,  it  ceased  to  act.  This  answer,  however,  was  not 
even  then  satisfactory  ;  and  within  a  short  period  of  that  time, 
Torrlcelli,  the  disciple  of  Galileo,  ascertained,  by  a  series  of 
experiments,  that  the  cause  of  this  ascent  of  the  water  in  foun- 
tains and  pumps,  was  the  pressure  of  the  weight  of  the  atmos- 
phere upon  the  surface  of  the  reservoir.  At  this  juncture,  how- 
ever, Torricelli  died ;  but  Pascal,  to  whom  the  result  of  his 
experiments  had  been  communicated  by  Mr.  Mersenne, 
through  Mr.  Petit,  the  Intendant  of  Fortifications  at  Rouen, 
having  repeated  the  experiments  of  Torricelli,  verified  their 
results,  and  completely  refuted  the  popular  notion  of  the  ab- 
horrence of  a  vacuum.  And  in  the  year  1647,  in  a  small  tract 
dedicated  to  his  father,  he  published  the  account  of  these  ex- 
periments. 

It  does  not  however  appear,  that,  at  this  time,  he  had  arrived 
at  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  phenomenon  in  question, — he 
had  done  little  more  than  ascertained  that  it  could  not  arise 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAt.  17 

from  the  cause  to  -which  it  had  been  attributed,  according  to 
the  popular  doctrine  of  the  day,  and  that  the  notion  of  nature's 
abhorrence  of  a  vacuum,  had  no  foundation  in  fact.  Pascal 
therefore  followed  out  his  inquiries  most  perseveringly ;  and  in 
the  year  1653,  he  wrote  two  pamphlets,  one  on  the  equilibrium 
of  fluids,  and  another  on  the  weight  of  the  atmosphere  ;  in 
which,  by  a  series  of  satisfactory  experiments,  he  completely 
established  that  doctrine  on  the  subject,  which  is  now  univer- 
sally received.  The  most  important  and  original  of  these  ex- 
periments were  those  which  shewed  that  the  rise  of  the  water, 
or  the  mercury  in  the  tube,  varied  in  proportion  to  the  height 
above  the  level  sea,  of  the  place  where  the  experiment  was 
tried.  Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  rob  Pascal  of  the 
merit  of  these  discoveries,  but  they  have  altogether  failed.  It 
was  however  to  be  regretted,  that  the  two  latter  tracts  were 
not  printed  till  1663,  the  year  following  his  death. 

At  the  time,  however,  when  M.  Pascal  issued  his  first  tract 
on  this  subject,  his  health  had  manifestly  given  way  before  the 
severity  of  his  studies;  and  at  the  close  of  the  year  1647,  he 
had  an  attack  of  paralysis,  which  deprived  him,  in  a  great 
measure,  of  the  use  of  his  limbs.  He  returned  to  Paris,  and 
resided  there  with  his  father,  and  sister,  and,  for  some  time, 
relaxed  from  study,  and  took  several  journies  by  way  of  recre- 
ation. But  in  the  year  1651^  he  lost  his  father ;  and  in  1633, 
his  sister  Jacqueline,  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  wish  which  she  had 
long  cherished,  joined  the  sisterhood  of  Port  Royal ;  and  being 
thus  left  alone  at  Paris,  for  his  other  sister  and  M.  Perier  then 
resided  at  Clermont,  he  returned  without  restraint  to  those 
habits  of  severe  and  excessive  study  which  mu^t,  in  a  short 
time,  had  they  not  been  interrupted,  have  brought  him  to  the 
grave.  But  his  friends  interfered,  and  their  advice,  seconded 
by  the  severity  of  his  bodily  afflictions,  constrained  him  for  a 
time  to  lay  aside  his  studies,  and  to  mingle  more  than  he  had 
done  with  general  society.  Here  he  gradually  regained  his 
spirits,  acquired  a  fresh  relish  for  the  fascinations  of  life,  and 
b£gan  even  to  think  of  marriage.  But  an  event  which  occurred 
about  this  time,  and  which  we  shall  have  occasioa  afterward,s 
1* 


IS 


MEMOIRS  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 


to  mention,  dissipated  all  these  thoughts,  and  gave  an  entirely 
new  color  to  his  whole  life,  and  tended  especially  to  induce 
him  to  consecrate  his  splendid  talents  to  the  noblest  of  ail 
employments, — the  service  of  God. 

There  is  reason  to  suppose,  that  the  paralytic  attack  that 
Pascal  experienced  in  the  the  year  1647,  first  led  him  to  the 
serious  consideration  of  the  subject  of  religion.  He  read,  at 
that  time,  some  few  devotional  books,  and  the  effect  which 
they  produced  upon  his  mind,  was  a  clear  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  of  the  propriety  of  its  high 
requirements.  He  sav/  that  it  enjoined  upon  men  the  necessity 
of  living  for  G  od,  and  of  making  Him  the  supreme  object  of 
their  attention  and  love  ;  and  so  strong  was  his  conviction  of 
this,  that  he  determined  about  that  time  to  renounce  the  studies 
to  which,  up  to  that  period,  he  had  so  eagerly  applied  himself, 
and  thenceforth,  to  devote  the  powers  of  his  mind  to  that  sub- 
ject of  supreme  interest,  which  Jesus  Christ  has  declared  to  be 
the  one  thing  needful. 

It  is  evident  that  the  resolution  then  formed,  did  materially 
influence  M.  Pascal's  whole  character  and  habits,  and  that 
gradually  he  gave  an  increased  attention  to  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion. Still  there  is  reason  to  suppose,  that  the  state  of  his  mind 
underwent  some  material  variations  in  this  respect,  and  that, 
lor  several  years,  he  was  not  altogether  so  entirely  devoted  to 
religious  topics,  nor  so  cordially  separated  from  irreligious 
society,  as  he  afterward  considered  to  be  necessary.  His 
residence  at  Paris,  and  his  entrance  into  its  society,  with  a 
view  to  recreation,  tended,  for  a  time,  to  dissipate  in  a  degree 
his  religious  impressions,  and  to  awaken  a  desire  to  return  to 
the  ways  of  that  world  which  he  had  professed  to  renounce, 
and  to  those  pursuits  and  pleasures,  the  vanity  and  fruitless- 
ness  of  which  he  had  already  confessed. 

It  does  not  follow  necessarily,  that  a  man  convinced  of  the 
truth,  and  feeling,  in  some  degree,  the  power  of  religion,  does 
at  once,  from  the  time  of  that  conviction,  give  himself  unre- 
servedly and  entirely  to  the  duties  and  the  pleasures  of  a  religi- 
ous life.      Experience  shews  that  there  is  a  wide  difference 


MEMOIR  OE  BLAISE   PASCAL.  19 

between  the  most  satisfactory  conviction  of  the  understanding 
in  favor  of  such  a  course,  and  the  effectual  and  habitual 
control  of  the  strong  passions  of  the  heart  so  as  to  accomplish 
it ;  and  too  frequently  it  is  found,  that  even  after  an  individual 
has  really  seen  and  loved  the  religion  of  the  Bible,  and  made 
the  path  which  it  points  out  the  object  of  his  decided  prefer- 
ence,— the  temptation  to  recur  to  the  thoughtless  and  irreligi- 
ous, but  fascinating  and  seductive  habits  of  the  majority,  again 
acquires  fresh  force  ;  and  though  he  may  not  be  led  aside 
sufficiently  to  allow  his  religious  inconsistency  to  be  seen,  and 
reproved  by  less  devoted  men,  yet  he  declines  so  far,  as  to 
exhibit  to  himself  in  a  stronger  light  his  own  weakness,  and  to 
induce  him  to  seek,  when  convinced  of  the  need  of  recovery, 
for  greater  assurance,  and  more  palpable  assistance  in  the 
grace  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

This  appears  to  have  been  the  case  with  Pascal,  during  his 
residence  in  Paris.  His  sister,  Jacqueline,  witnessed  with 
regret,  on  his  occasional  visits  to  her  at  Port  Royal,  the  de- 
teriorating effect  of  the  promiscuous  society  with  which  he 
associated ;  and  she  remonstrated  faithfully  and  earnestly 
with  him  on  the  necessity  of  greater  decision,  and  the  need  of 
a  more  real  and  marked  separation  from  those  who  lived  only 
for  this  present  world. 

The  mind  of  Pascal,  however,  notwithstanding  these  minor 
aberrations,  had  taken  a  decidedly  religious  turn ;  and  the 
power  of  Scriptural  truth  gradually  gained  a  permanent  influ- 
ence over  his  heart,  and  gave  a  color  to  all  his  pursuits.  His 
attention  was  drawn  off  from  matters  of  merely  sublunary 
importance,  and  fixed  on  the  phenomena  of  the  moral  world, 
and  the  principles  of  that  book  which  unveils  to  us  the  glories, 
and  imparts  the  hope  of  an  eternal  existence ;  and  this  change 
gradually  exhibited  itself  with  greater  distinctness. 

The  first  public  incident  of  his  life  which  indicated  this 
change,  was  of  a  controversial  and  scholastic  nature.  During 
his  residence  at  Rouen,  he  attended  a  series  of  lectures  on 
philosophy,  in  which  the  lecturer,  took  occasion  to  advance 
some  positions  which  tended  to  call  in  question  the  decisions  of 


g«  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL^ 

the  church,  and  which  led  him  to  infer  that  the  body  of  JesuS 
Christ  was  not  formed  of  blood  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  M.  Pascal 
addressed  himself  boldly  to  the  suppression  of  this  heresy.  He 
first  remonstrated  with  the  lecturer  ;  but  finding  this  useless^ 
he  denounced  him  to  the  Bishop  of  Rouen  ;  and  being  foiled 
there  by  an  equivocal  confession,  he  carried  the  matter  before 
the  Archbishop,  by  whom  the  philosopher  was  compelled 
publicly  to  renounce  the  dangerous  notions  which  he  had 
advanced  ;  and  the  whole  of  this  process  was  conducted  with, 
so  much  temper,  that  the  defeated  philosopher  never  retained 
the  least  acrimonious  feeling  against  his  youthful  antagonist. 
That  Pascal  should  apply  his  extraordinary  powers  to  combat 
and  to  give  importance  to  such  subtleties,  is  to  be  attributed  to 
the  genius  of  the  times.  In  those  days  the  grand  and  simple 
truths  of  revelation  were  much  lost  sight  of,  and  theological 
knowledge  and  religious  zeal  were  shewn  in  those  metaphys- 
ical speculations,  and  those  ready  powers  of  logical  discussion^ 
which  may  gratify  the  pride  of  the  understanding,  but  do  not 
mend  the  heart. 

Pascal  was  not,  however,  to  be  kept  down  by  the  trammels 
of  the  schools,  and  the  semi-barbarous  theology  of  the  day. 
He  read  and  thought  for  himself.  It  was  impossible  for  a  mind 
like  his  to  do  otherwise  ;  and  such  was  the  practical  influence 
of  his  religious  studies  on  his  character,  that  it  was  felt  and 
acknowledged  by  all  around  him.  Even  his  father,  previously 
to  his  death,  did  not  hesitate  to  learn  at  the  feet  of  his  son,  and 
gradually  reformed  his  own  manner  of  life,  and  became  more 
devoted  to  the  subject  of  religion  ;  and  abounding  in  his  later 
days  in  Christian  virtues,  at  length  died  a  truly  Christian  death* 

The  circumstance,  however,  which  seemed  in  the  providence 
of  God  most  effectually  to  influence  M.  Pascal's  mind  in  favor 
of  religion — to  dissipate  all  remaining  attachment  to  this  world, 
and  to  give  the  especial  character  to  his  remaining  years,  was 
an  accident  which  happened  to  him  in  October,  1634.  He 
was  taking  his  usual  drive  in  a  coach  and  four,  when,  as  they 
passed  the  bridge  of  Neuilly,  the  leaders  became  unmanageable 
a4  a  point  of  the  bridge  where  there  was  no  parapet,  and  they. 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  RASCAL.  21 

yveve  precipitated  iuto  the  Seine.  Happily  the  traces  broke 
suddenly  by  the  weight  of  the  horses,  and  the  carriage  remained 
safely  at  the  very  verge  of  the  bridge.  Pascal's  valuable  life 
was  preserved ;  but  the  shock  which  his  frail  and  languishing 
frame  sustained  was  very  great.  He  fainted,  and  remained 
for  a  long  time  in  a  state  of  insensibility ;  and  the  permanent 
nervous  impression  which  this  alarm  produced  was  so  strong, 
that  frequently  afterwards,  in  moments  of  peculiar  weakness 
or  durin  o-  a  sleepless  night,  he  fancied  that  there  was  a  preci- 
pice close  to  the  side  of  his  bed,  into  which  he  feared  that  he 
should  fall. 

It  was  after  this  event  that  Pascal's  religious  impressions 
regained  that  strength  which  they  had  in  a  degree  lost.  His 
natural  amiability  of  temper, — his  ready  flow  of  wit, — the 
fascinations  of  the  best  circles  of  Parisian  society,  and  the 
^nsidious  influence  of  well  applied  flattery,  had,  previously  to 
this  accident,  succeeded  in^cooling,  in  some  measure,  the  ardor 
of  his  piety,  and  had  given  him  somewhat  more  of  the  air  of  a 
man,  whose  hopes  and  whose  treasures  were  to  be  found 
within  the  limits  of  this  transitory  and  imperfect  existence. 
But  this  providential  deliverance  from  sudden  death,  led  to  a 
very  decided  and  permanent  change  of  character.  He  regard- 
ed it  as  a  message  from  heaven,  which  called  on  him  to  re- 
nounce alj  secular  occupations,  and  to  devote  the  remainder 
of  his  life  exclusively  to  God.  From  that  time,  he  bade  adieu 
to  the  world.  He  entirely  gave  up  his  habits  of  general  visit- 
ing, and  retiring  altogether  from  merely  scientific  society,  re- 
tained only  the  connection  which  he  had  formed  with  a  few 
religious  friends  of  superior  intellectual  attainments  and  de- 
votional habits.  In  order  to  accomplish  this  the  more  efiectu- 
ally,  he  changed  his  residence,  and  lived  for  some  time  in  the 
country. 

He  was  now  about  thirty  years  of  age  ;  and  it  was  at  this 
time  that  he  established  that  mode  of  life  in  which  he  persever- 
ed to  the  last.  He  gave  up  all  search  for  earthly  pleasure, 
and  the  use  of  all  indulgences  and  superfluities.  He  dispens- 
ed as  far  as  possible  with  the  service  of  domestics.     He   made 


22  Memoir  of  blAise  pascal. 

his  own  bed,  and  carried  his  own  dinner  to  his  apartment. 
Some  persons  may  be  disposed  to  consider  this  as  a  needless 
and  ascetic  peculiarity.  Nor  is  it  attempted  here  to  justify 
the  stress  which  he  laid  upon  these  minor  and  comparatively 
unimportant  matters  ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  every  one  must 
admire  the  elevated  piety  with  which  these  peculiar  notions 
were  associated,  and  the  principle  on  which  these  acts  of 
self-denial  were  performed.  Prayer,  and  the  study  of  thie 
Scriptures  became  the  business  of  his  life,  in  which  he  found 
inexpressible  delight.  He  used  to  say,  that  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures were  not  a  science  of  the  understanding,  so  much  as  of 
the  heart ;  and  that  they  were  a  science,  intelligible  only  to 
him  whose  heart  was  in  a  right  moral  state,  while  to  all  other's 
they  were  veiled  in  obscurity.  To  this  sacred  study,  there- 
fore, Pascal  gave  himself,  with  the  ardour  of  entire  devotion  ; 
and  his  success  in  this  line  of  study,  was  as  eminent  as  ithad 
been  in  matters  of  general  science.  His  knowledge  of  thfe 
Scriptures,  and  his  facility  in  quoting  them,  became  very 
great.  It  was  quite  remarkable  in  that  day.  His  increasing 
love  for  the  truth  of  religion,  led  him  also  to  exercise  readily 
all  the  powers  of  his  mind,  both,  by  his  pen,  and  by  his  very 
great  conversational  powers,  in  recommending  religion  to 
others,  and  in  demolishing  whatever  appeared  likely  to  oppose 
its  progress,  or  to  veil  and  to  deform  its  truth.  An  opportunity 
of  the  very  first  importance  shortly  afterwards  occurred,  which 
called  forth  the  exercise  of  his  splendid  talents  and  extensive 
knowledge  in  that  way  which  he  most  especially  desired. 

The  sincere  religion  of  M.  Pascal,  together  with  the  connec- 
tion of  his  family  with  the  religious  recluses  of  the  Monastery 
of  Port  Royal,  had  gathered  round  him  as  his  friends,  many  of 
the  illustrious  scholars  and  Christians  who  were  associated 
together  in  that  retirement.  About  the  time  when  Pascal's 
mind  had  been  led  to  the  formation  of  his  religious  principles, 
and  to  the  more  serious  adoption  of  his  religious  habits,  the 
Monastery  of  Port  Royal  had  risen  into  importance  and  noto. 
riety,  which  were  increased  by  the  difficulties  with  which  it 
Jiad  to  contend.     Under  the  superintendence  of  Angelique   Ar-^ 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL*  23 

nkuld,  sister  of  ]M.  Arnauld,  the  celebrated  doctor  of  the  Sor- 
bonne,  the  society  of  female  recluses  there,  had  undergone  a 
very  extensive  and  thorough  reform  ;  and  many  young  persons 
of  superior  rank  and  exalted  piety  had  gathered  round  this  re- 
nowned leader,  and  risen  under  her  instructions,  and  the  pas- 
toral guidance  of  a  few  excellent  men  of  similar  sentiments, 
the  male  recluses  of  the  same  society,  to  still  loftier  attain- 
ments in  the  love  of  God,  and  in  conformity  to  his  revealed 
will. 

At  the  same  time  also,  many  men  of  the  first  talents  and 
acquirements,  disgusted  with  the  world,  with  the  fruitlessness 
of  its  service,  and  the  falsehood  of  its  promises,  and  sick  of  the 
heartless  and  dissipated  state  of  society  around  them,  came  to 
dwell  together  in  a  retired  mansion  in  the  same  neighborhood, 
and  to  seek  in  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness,  that  peace  which 
the  world  cannot  give.  Among  these  were  two  brothers  of 
the  Mere  Angelique,  her  nephews  Le  Maitre  and  De  Sacy, 
Nicole,  Lancelot,  Hermant  and  others.  Here  they  devoted 
themselves  to  the  instruction  of  youth^  both  in  literature  and 
science,  and  in  religion,  and  their  seminaries  soon  rose  into 
importance.  From  this  little  society  of  recluses,  issued  forth 
many  elementary  works  of  learning  and  science,  which  became 
th  e  standard  works  of  the  day ;  and  such  was  their  progress 
an4  the  celebrity  of  the  Port  Royal  schools,  and  the  Port  Royal 
grammars,  and  other  treatises,  that  they  seriously  threatened 
the  Jesuits  with  ejection  from  that  high  station  which  they 
had  long  almost  exclusively  held  as  the  instructers  and  spirit- 
ual guides  and  governors  of  all  the  young  people  of  condition 
throughout  France. 

The  true  principle  of  the  Romish  apostacy  from  the  simplici- 
ty of  the  Christian  faith,  has  ever  been  a  despotic  dominion 
over  the  consciences  of  men.  That  fallen  and  false  church 
has,  in  all  the  varying  phases  of  its  condition,  ever  held  this 
point  steadily  in  view  ;  and  if  a  few  words  may  delineate  the 
essential  feature  of  her  enormous  and  unchristian  pretensions, 
it  is  the  substitution  in  the  stead  of  true  religion,  of  a  system  of 
terror  and  power,  founded  upon  unwarranted  and  unscriptural 


24  ■  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

assumptions,  altogether  contrary  to  the  sphit  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ,  which  is  the  rational  dominion  of  Divine  influence  over 
the  heart,  through  the  medium  of  the  doctrinal  truths  of  Scrip- 
ture. To  veil,  in  some  degree,  this  presumption,  and  to  render 
it  palatable  to  men  in  general,  Rome  has  gathered  round  her, 
in  the  style  of  her  buildings,  the  formularies  of  her  worship, 
the  splendor  of  her  attire,  and  the  fascinations  of  her  choral 
music,  every  thing  that  is  imposing  and  calculated  to  seduce 
the  affections  through  the  medium  of  the  senses.  But  as 
knowledge  spread  among  the  nations,  and  the  art  of  printing 
providentially  rendered  the  suppression  of  knowledge  more 
difficult,  it  became  neces^sary  to  adopt  a  more  efficient  system 
of  police  to  guard  all  the  avenues  of  this  widely  extended 
dominion  of  priestcraft  over  ignorance.  The  court  of  Rome, 
therefore,  eagerly  availed  itself  of  the  plan  of  Loyola,  and  the 
order  of  the  Jesuits  was  established  for  the  defence  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  church  ;  and  never  was  any  system  more 
admirably  organized  for  such  a  purpose. 

Framed  from  infancy  to  intrigue,  and  hardened  to  all  the 
evils  of  the  morality  of  expediency,  these  emissaries  of  the 
Roman  power  formed  a  complete  system  of  police  spread  over 
the  w^hole  extent  of  Papal  Christendom  ;  and  thoroughly  in- 
formed, by  means  of  auricular  confession,  of  the  secret  history 
of  courts,  families,  and  individuals,  and  bound  to  each  other 
in  the  most  solemn  manner  by  the  covenant  of  their  order, 
they  were  prepared  to  adopt  and  to  vindicate  any  measures, 
however  infamous,  that  might  advance  the  cause  of  the  church 
with  which  they  w^ere  identified.  History  furnishes  an  abund- 
ance of  well  authenticated  facts  of  the  darkest  dye,  to  shew 
the  boldness  with  which,  at  all  risks,  they  rushed  on  to  their 
object,  and  the  errors  with  which  they  endeavoured  to  justify 
their  crimes.  There  is  in  the  unsanctified  heart  a  fiendlike 
delight  in  powder.  Union  is  power  :  and  for  the  sake  of  feeling 
that  they  have  that  power,  men  are  content  to  become  even 
subordinate  agents,  according  to  their  capacities,  in  a  great 
scheme,  that  they  may  thereby  realize,  by  combination,  an 
influence  extensive,  irresistible,  and  terrific,   which  no  one 


MEMOIR  OF  ELAISE  PASCAL.  25 

could  have  obtained  alone.  This  is  most  probably  the  secret 
of  the  efficiency  of  that  system  of  ecclesiastical  espionage;  and 
it  certainly  was  carried  to  such  an  awful  degree  of  success, 
that  the  thrones  of  Europe,  and  even  the  Papal  tiara  itself, 
trembled  before  it.  It  was  not  therefore  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  this  powerful  body,  whose  reign  over  France,  at  that  time, 
was  almost  vmcontrolled,  should  behold,  with  bitter  malice, 
the  growing  influence  and  success  of  a  few  retired  pietists,  who 
now  threatened  to  invade  their  chartered  rights,  and  by  the 
simple  principles  of  Scriptural  truth,  to  divide,  if  not  to  anni- 
liilate  their  power. 

But  while  the  prejudices  and  hostilities  of  the  Jesuits  were 
thus  roused  against  the  Port  Royalists,  it  would  not  have  been 
a  consistent  Jesuitical  ground  of  complaint  against  them,  to  say 
that  they  endangered  their  craft.  It  was  needful  to  seek  an 
objection  against  them  in  the  things  concerning  their  God. — 
And  they  soon  found  ample  food  to  nourish  and  to  embitter 
their  venom,  and  to  lay  the  basis  of  a  plot  for  their  ruin,  in  the 
sound  doctrinal  sentiments,  and  practical  piety  of  these  sepa- 
ratists from  the  corrupt  manners  of  the  time.  And  though 
probably  the  sentiments  of  these  gentlemen  might  have  been 
left  unnoticed,  but  for  their  interference  with  the  secular  in- 
terests of  the  disciples  of  Loyola,  yet  when  once  these  artful 
men  had  found  real  ground  of  hostility  in  the  success  of  the 
Port  Royalists  in  education,  they  were  thankful  indeed  to  find 
a  still  more  plausible  ground  of  assault  against  them,  in  the 
peculiarity  of  their  religious  sentiments.  They  rejoiced  at  the 
opportunity  afforded  to  them  of  covering  that  envy,  which  orig- 
inated in  the  success  of  their  opponents  in  a  course  of  honour- 
able rivalry  on  the  field  of  science,  by  the  more  specious  pretext 
of  zeal  for  the  purity  of  the  faith,  and  the  integrity  of  the  pon- 
tifical power.  On  this  ostensible  ground,  therefore,  a  series  of 
persecutions  were  commenced,  which  terminated  only  by  the 
entire  destruction  of  the  brightest  ornaments  that  ever  graced 
the  church  of  France. 

2 


26  MEMOIR.  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

In  the  yeaf  1640,  the  celebrated  work  of  Jansenius,*  Bishop 
of  Ypres,  entitled,  Augustinus,  was  published.  It  was  pub- 
lished about  two  years  after  the  death  of  the  author,  and  is  a 
very  clear  and  luminous  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of  Scripture 
on  the  subject  of  the  fall  and  redemption  of  man.  It  exhibits 
very  prominently  the  opinions  of  St  Augustine,  and  as  distinct- 
ly condemns  the  Pelagian  errors. 

The  recluses  of  Port  Royal,  who  were  diligent  students  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  had  derived  their  opinions  from  that  source 
only,  were  led  to  adept  views  precisely  similar  to  those  of 
Augustine  and  Jansenius  ;  and  the  more  deeply  they  searched 
the  Scriptures  by  the  mutual  aid  of  superior  intellect  and  sound 
erudition,  the  more  abundantly  were  they  confirmed  in  these 
opinions,  and  in  rooted  aversion  to  the  whole  system  of  false 
and  ruinous  theology  then  prevalent  in  the  schools  of  the  Jesuits. 
These  opinions  they  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  ;  and  the  Jesuits 
beheld  with  dread,  the  progress  of  a  doctrine  so  fitted  for  the 
enlightening  and  comforting  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  conse- 
quent decline  of  their  popularity  and  their  dominion,  before  the 
simple,  but  powerful  statements  of  Scriptural  truth. 

It  is  a  well  established  fact,  that  however  plainly  the  Scrip- 
tures speak  on  these  subjects,  the  careless  multitude  who  have 
not  religion  at  heart,  and  especially  those  ecclesiastics,  whose 
chief  object  in  the  sacred  profession  has  been  its  emoluments, 
will  not  receive  the  truths  which  those  Scriptures  teach  ;  and 
hence  the  prevailing  opinion,  even  among  the  teachers  of  the 
Christian  church,  has  always  been  hostile  to  the  gospel  declar- 
ations of  human  corruption,  and  Divine  mercy.  So  that  in  those 
days  of  ignorance  and  irreligion,  although  the  doctrine  of  St  Au- 
gustine had  been  formally  sanctioned  as  the  doctrine  of  the  church 
of  Rome,  the  authorities  of  that  church  were  fully  prepared  by 
the  corrupt  bias  of  the  irreligious  mind,  to  act  in  direct  opposi- 


*  His  real  name  was  Otto  ;  bul  at  Louvain  he  was  called  first 
Jansen,  orthe  son  of  John,  and  this  in  the  Latinized  form  be- 
came Jansenius. 


MEMOIR  OP  BAISLE  PASCAL.  27 

tion  to  dogmas  which  the  church  itself  had  recognized.  To 
those  who  have  not  looked  closely  into  ecclesiastical  history, 
this  may  seem  extraordinary.  But  the  fact  is  not  uncommon. 
And  the  present  state  of  religion,  both  in  the  English  and  Scot- 
tish Establishments,  exhibits  a  case  of  a  similar  kind  ;  the 
larger  portion  of  the  clergy  in  both  churches  holding  doctrines 
decidedly  opposed  to  the  dogmatical  statements  of  their  stand- 
ard documents,  and  in  the  strength  of  their  majority,  denounc- 
ing, as  heretical,  those  members  of  the  church  whose  opinions 
precisely  and  literally  accord  with  their  Articles  and  Confes- 
sions. 

The  Jesuits,  therefore,  relying  on  the  preferences  and  strong 
prejudices  of  the  great  body  of  the  priesthood,  boldly  assailed 
the  writings  of  Jansenius,  and  the  opinions  of  the  Port  Royalists  ; 
and  a  long  and  tedious  controversy  arose,  in  which  M.  x\rnauld 
and  several  other  members  of  the  society  of  Port  Royal  abun- 
dantly distinguished  themselves  ;  but^which  did  not  appear  at 
all  likely  to  draw  to  a  close,  except  as  it  threatened  the  Port 
Royalists  with  ruin,  when  Pascal  was  induced  to  take  up  his 
pen  in  defence  of  his  persecuted  friends,  and  of  those  Scriptural 
truths  to  which  he  was  sincerely  attached. 

In  the  year  1656,  M.  Pascal  published  the  first  of  his  twenty 
celebrated  letters,  on  the  subject  of  the  morality  of  the  Jesuits, 
and  which  have  been  improperly  called  "  The  Provincial 
Letters."  They  were  published  first  under  the  title,  "  Letters 
Written  by  Louis  de  Montalte  to  a  Provincial,  and  to  the 
Reverend  Fathers  of  the  Jesuits,  on  their  moral  and  political 
principles  ;"  and  from  this  they  acquired  the  erroneous  title 
by  which  they  are  universally  known.  Of  the  merit  of  these 
letters,  nothing  need  be  said  here.  They  are  known  to  every 
one.  Even  Voltaire  had  said  of  them,  that  "  Moliere's  best 
comedies  are  not  so  pungent  in  their  wit  as  the  earlier  letters  . 
and  that  Bossuet  has  nothing  more  sublime  than  the  latter." 
They  are  now  regarded  as  the  first  book  which  purified  and 
fixed  the  French  language.  The  effect  of  them  was  wonderful^ 
The  whole  edifice  of  the  reputation  of  the  society  fell  before 
the  power  of  Pascal's  genius.     Their  boldest  casuists  fled  from 


28  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

the  two-edged  sword  of  his  manly  and  honest  sarcasm.  An 
universal  clamor  rose  against  them.  They  were  on  every 
side  regarded  as  the  corrupters  of  morals  ;  and  after  having,  in 
one  or  two  pamphlets,  most  unwisely  and  vainly  endeavoured 
to  justify  the  system  of  casuistry  which  Pascal  had  exposed, 
they  were  compelled  for  a  time  to  shrink  before  the  scourge 
with  which  he  had  chastised  them,  and  to  bear  in  silence  the 
general  indignation  of  the  more  virtuous  portion  of  society, 
which  he  had  effectually  roused  against  their  errors. t 

Enmity,  however,  such  as  theirs  did  not  languish,  because 
for  a  time,  it  was  repressed.  Though  the  multitude  had  now 
seen  and  abhorred  the  immoral  principles  of  the  Jesuits,  they 
had  not  the  means  to  overthrow  their  power.  These  were 
men  who  could  resolutely  and  pertinaciously  maintain  their 
position  after  their  character  was  gone.  Their  channels  to  in- 
fluence over  men  of  power,  were  too  effectually  occupied  for  any 
one  to  shake  their  dominion  over  the  court  and  the  government ; 
and  in  the  mysterious  providence  of  God,  a  few  years  gave  to 
this  intriguing  society  a  complete  and  bitter  revenge.  The  his- 
tory of  the  persecution  dispersion,  and  ruin  of  the  saints  of 
Port  Royal,  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  interesting  points  in  the 
annals  of  the  Christian  church.  It  does  most  povrerfully  es- 
tablish the  truth,  that  the  kingdom  of  Christ  is  not  of  this  world, 
and  that  the  reward  of  the  true  servants  of  God  is  reserved  for 
another. 

The  contest  of  M.  Pascal  with  the  Jesuits  continued  for 
about  three  years,  during  which  time,  he  was  very  much  oc- 
cupied. To  expose  their  errors,  required  a  very  diligent 
study  of  their  voluminous  and  useless  writings  ;  and  though, 
in  this  respect,  Pascal  was  much  indebted  to  the  labors  of 
Arnauld  and  Nicole,  yet  much  application  on  his  own  part  was 
absolutely  necessary.  Pie  says,  ^'  I  have  been  asked  if  I  had 
read  all  the  books  which  I  have  quoted  ?  I  answer.  No.  Ta 
do  this,  I  must  have  spent  a  large  portion  of  my  life  in   reading 


t  No  serious  attempt  was  made  to  answer  the  Provincial  Let' 
ters  for  forty  years. 


^S 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  29 

very  bad  books.  But  I  have  twice  read  the  works  of  Esco- 
bar through  ;  the  others,  my  friends  read  for  me.  But  I  have 
never  made  use  of  a  single  passage,  without  having  read  it  in 
the  book  from  which  I  quoted,  and  without  having  studied  the 
ground  on  which  it  was  brought  forward,  and  examined  the 
context  both  before  and  after,  that  I  might  not  run  the  risk  of 
citing  that  as  an  averment,  which  was  brought  forward  as  an 
objection." 

Application  so  close,  could  not  but  materially  affect  a  con- 
stitution already  seriously  enfeebled  by  disease  ;  and  the  evils 
which  were  gathering,  were  doubtless  aggravated  by  the  se- 
vere mode  of  life  to  which  he  rigidly  adhered.  His  food  was 
of  the  plainest  kind.  His  apartment  cleared  of  every  thing 
like  luxury,  or  even  comfort ;  and  in  order  to  check  the  risings 
of  vanity,  or  any  other  evil  suggestion,  he  wore  beneath  his 
clothes  a  girdle  of  iron,  with  sharp  points  affixed  to  it,  the  in- 
convenience of  which,  must  have  been  at  all  times  great ; 
but  whenever  he  found  his  mind  wandering  from  the  one  great 
subject,  or  taking  delight  in  the  things  around  him,  he  struck 
this  girdle  with  his  elbow,  and  forced  the  sharp  points  of  the 
iron  more  deeply  into  his  side.  This  fact  cannot  be  recorded 
with  approbation.  It  is  one  of  the  strong  evidences  of  the  evil 
occasioned  by  the  false  doctrines  of  the  Church  of  R  ome,  that 
even  a  genius  so  elevated  and  liberal  as  that  of  Pascal,  could 
not  altogether  free  itself  from  the  errors  of  education.  What 
a  far  more  effectual  principle  of  reform  is  the  love  of  Christ ! 
All  the  bodily  suffering  which  we  can  inflict  upon  ourselves 
will  not  be  sufficient  alone  to  inspire  one  holy,  or  restrain  one 
unholy  thought  ;  but  a  faithful,  affectionate  lifting  up  of  the 
soul  to  the  God  of  all  grace,  is  blessed  by  Divine  appointment 
as  the  means  of  victory  over  temptation  ;  and  they  who  have 
sincerely  tried  this  "  more  excellent  way,"  have  realized  its 
success.  They  know  what  is  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  them  free. 

But  though  Christians,  in  a  day  of  clearer  light   and   richer 
privilege  can  discern  the  error  into  which  Pascal  had  been  led, 
and  can  mourn  over  the  bondage  in  which  he  was  still  retained, 
2* 


30  iJIEMOIlt  Oi*  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

yet  they  who  know  the  difficulty  of  a  sincere  and  uncom- 
promising service  of  God,  will  look  with  reverence  at  these 
evidences  of  serious  devotion  to  the  cause  of  holiness,  and  ad- 
mire the  resolute  self-denial  which  dictated  and  endured  such 
extraordinary  sufferings.  It  is  surely  not  becoming  in  the 
careless,  sensual  professor  of  the  Christian  faith,  who  in  any 
degree  makes  his  liberty  a  cloak  for  licentiousness,  to  look 
with  contempt  on  these  striking  proofs,  that  Pascal  hated  vain 
thoughts,  more  than  he  loved  his  own  flesh.  It  has  been  well 
said,  that  "  a  poor  mistaken  Papist,  wounded  by  a  girdle,  or 
bleeding  under  a  scourge,  with  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart, 
is  nearer  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  than  a  proud,  insolent,  in- 
tolerant professor  of  religion,  who,  with  a  less  exceptionable 
creed,  is  lamentably  deficient  in  the  graces  of  humility,  self- 
denial,  and  charity."  Happy  will  that  man  be,  who,  if  he  is 
working  upon  sound  principles,  and  has  renounced  the  notion 
of  human  merit  before  God,  shall  find,  in  his  daily  conduct, 
proofs  equally  strong  with  those  which  the  life  of  Pascal  fur- 
nishes, of  a  sincere  desire  to  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body,  and 
to  silence  the  impure  suggestions  of  carnal  inclination. 

Worn  down,  however,  by  rigid  self-denial,  and  painful  de- 
votion to  study,  the  frame  of  Pascal  began  to  exhibit  serious 
symptoms  of  decline.  The  constitutional  disease,  which  had 
shewn  itself  in  earlier  years,  gained  ground  ;  and  after  five 
years  of  active  exertion,  his  general  health  completely  gave 
way,  and  he  became,  in  several  respects,  a  very  great  sufferer. 
Onepartof  his  afiliction  was  a  severe,  and  almost  unceasing 
pain  in  the  teeth,  so  that  he  was  unable  to  sleep,  and  was 
compelled  to  lie  whole  nights  in  thought,  in  order  if  possible, 
to  divert  his  attention  from  the  agony  that  he  endured. 

At  this  time,  however,  an  incident  occurred  which  must  not 
be  omitted,  because  it  tends  to  exhibit,  in  a  striking  point  of 
view,  the  originality  and  superiority  of  his  mind.  During  one 
of  his  wakeful  and  painful  nights,  some  propositions  respecting 
the  curve,  called  the  Cycloid,*  recurred   to  his  recollection. 


*It  is  the  curve,  described  by  a  nail  upon  the  felly  of  a  wheel 
of  a  carriage  in  motion. 


MEMOIR  OF  ELAISE    PASCAL.  31 

He  had,  for  a  long  time,  given  up  all  mathematical  study; 
but  the  train  of  thought  to  which  these  recollections  led,  inter- 
ested him,  and  beguiled  the  pain  under  which  he  Was  suffering. 
He  allowed  himself,  therefore,  to  be  led  on  by  the  beauty  of 
the  thoughts  which  occurred  to  him,  and  at  length  pressed  his 
examination  of  the  subject  to  such  important  results,  that  even 
now  the  discoveries  which  he  made  that  night,  are  regarded 
among  the  greatest  efforts  of  the  human  mind.  Yet  so  com- 
pletely had  his  attention  been  turned  away  from  such  specula- 
tions, and  occupied  with  those  religious  contemplations,  which, 
as  relating  to  God  and  eternity,  he  thought  far  more  important, 
that  he  did  not  attempt  to  commit  to  paper  these  interesting 
and  splendid  discoveries,  till  speaking  one  day  of  them  to  the 
Duke  de  Roannez,  it  was  suggested  to  him  that  they  might  be 
made  useful  in  support  of  the  cause  of  the  true  religion,  at 
that  time  persecuted  in  the  persons  of  the  Jansenists  ;  and  he 
then  consented  to  the  mode  of  publication  which  was  subse- 
quently adopted. 

In  June  1658,  therefore,  Pascal  issued  a  paper,  under  the 
signature  of  Amos  Dettonville,  which  is  an  anagram  of  the 
name  of  Louis  de  Montalte,  the^  signature  affixed  to  the  Pro- 
vincial Letters,  proposing  certain  questions  for  solution,  res- 
pecting the  properties  of  the  Cycloid,  and  offering  two  rewards 
if  the  questions  were  solved,  and  the  mode  of  solution  were 
exhibited,  by  a  given  day,  to  certain  judges  chosen  for  the 
purpose.  The  proposal  gave  rise  to  much  discussion,  and  cal- 
led forth  much  mathematical  talent.  Only  two  persons,  how- 
ever, claimed  the  prize,  the  Jesuit  Lallouere,  and  Dr.  Wallis 
the  Savilian  Professor  of  Geometry  at  Oxford  ;  but  at  the  ex- 
piry of  the  given  time,  they  had  not  satisfied  the  judges  that 
a  proper  solution  of  the  questions  had  been  offered,  and  then 
immediately  Pascal  printed  his  own  treatise  on  the  subject, 
which  completely  established  his  claim  to  the  discovery  of 
the  right  method  of  solution. 

How  far  this  mathematical  discovery  could  aid  the  cause  of 
religion,  is  very  questionable.  Probably  the  Duke  de  Roan- 
nez wished  it  to  be  inferred,  that  the  highest  gifts  of  superior 


3'2  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

intellect  are  bestoAved  by  a  kind  Providence  upon  the  servants 
of  God,  as  a  mark  of  approbation,  and  a  proof  of  the  nobler 
gifts  of  grace  ;  but  this  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  a  very  ques- 
tionable position,  and  one  not  borne  out  by  fact ;  for  generally 
speaking,  the  children  of  this  world,  are,  in  their  generation, 
wiser  than  the  children  of  light.  The  event,  however,  has  its 
use  in  a  different  way.  It  tends  to  confirm  our  confidence  in 
the  superior  mind  of  Pascal,  as  one  of  those  lights  that  God  has 
graciously  vouchsafed  to  his  church,  to  mark  out  the  path  of 
truth,  amidst  the  mazes  of  error.  Audit  exhibits,  in  a  very 
interesting  manner,  the  reality  of  Pascal's  religion,  that  dis- 
coveries so  calculated  to  gratify  a  mind  like  his,  and  to  call  out 
the  ambitious  desire  of  giving  them  to  the  world,  should  have 
appeared  of  little  importance  to  him,  compared  with  the  gen- 
eral course  of  pious  meditations,  in  Avhich  his  days  and  nights 
were  spent,  and  only  worthy  to  occupy  him  seriously  when  it 
could  be  made  to  appear  to  him,  however  erroneously,  that 
the  publication  might  subserve  the  interests  of  that  religion 
which  was,  of  all  things,  nearest  to  his  heart.  There  is  very 
little  indeed  of  this  practical  elevation  above  the  world.  There 
are  few  who  really  feel  it ;  and  whenever  it  is  seen,  it  is  wor- 
thy of  reverence  ;  for  few  proofs  of  the  realizing  consciousness 
of  another  existence,  and  of  a  rational  hope  of  happiness  in  it, 
are  more  satisfactory  and  impressive  than  the  calm  and  com- 
posure with  which  some  superior  minds  lose  their  grasp  upon 
those  things  of  the  present  scene  that  are  naturally  precious  to 
tliem,  and  find  their  highest  delight  in  the  promises  of  holiness 
and  glory,  beyond  this  scene  of  death.  As  St.  Pavil  says,  Yea 
doubtless^  and  I  count  all  things  but  dung^  that  I  may  win 
Christy  and  be  found  in  him^  not  having  viine  own  righteous. 
new,  which  is  of  the  law^  but  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of 
Christy  the  righteousness^  tohich  is  of  God  by  faith  ;  that  I  may 
knoivhim^and  the  poicer  of  his  resurrection^  and  the  fellowship 
ofhissufferings^beingmadtcomformable  unto  his  death;  if 
by  any  m,eans  I  may  attain  unto  the  resurrection  of  the  dead. 

In  Pascal,  turning  aside  from  the  career  of  fame  to  which  his 
acute  and  active  miud  almost  involuntarily  led  him,  and  neg- 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  33 

lecting  those  imposing  discoveries  which  spontaneously  opened 
to  the  energies  of  his  genius,  even  in  the  very  agonies  of  dis- 
ease, to  occupy  himself  with  prayer  and  meditation  on  the 
Divine  perfections,  and  with  designs  for  the  moral  and  religious 
improvement  of  his  fellow  creatures,  an  instance  of  true 
magnanimity  presents,  itself,  which  nothing  but  the  reality  of 
the  great  subject  of  his  hopes  can  at  all  explain.  Sceptics 
may  profess  to  smile  at  what  they  call  the  superstitions  of 
weaker  minds,  and  they  may  find  ample  food  for  unholy  mirth 
in  the  errors  and  imbecilities  of  many  faithful  Christians,  but 
when  they  see  the  loftiest  spirits  of  the  age,men  whose  compre- 
hensive grasp  of  intellect  makes  all  their  boasted  philosophy  look 
mean  and  meagre,  making  light  of  all  that  the  material  world 
can  ofier  to  their  notice,  and  eagerly  holding  forth  the  torch  of 
revelation,  to  catch,  as  their  worthiest  prospect,  a  view  of  the 
realities  of  the  eternal  world,  they  are  compelled  to  admit  that 
there  is,  at  least,  no  small  probability  that  the  testimony  of 
that  book  is  true,  and  that  it  is  not  folly  to  carry  inquiry  far- 
ther. 

The  most  interesting  and  important  of  the  productions  of 
this  great  mind,  remains  to  be  noticed.  It  has  been  seen,  that 
the  original  tendencies  of  PascaPs  mind,  aided  by  the  habits 
of  his  early  education,  had  peculiarly  fitted  him  for  patient 
and  accurate  investigation  into  any  subject  that  came  before 
him.  He  grappled  with  the  difficulties  of  his  subject,  and 
never  was  satisfied  till  he  had  discovered  the  truth.  Subse- 
quently, the  decline  of  his  health,  and  some  other  providential 
circumstances,  followed  up  by  the  advice  of  his  pious  relatives, 
gave  a  decidedly  religious  bias  to  his  mind,  and  with  all  his 
native  ardor  and  acumen,  and  patience  and  perseverance  in 
inquiry,  he  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  the 
writings  of  the  Fathers,  and  every  book  of  importance  on  the 
subject,  on  which  he  could  lay  his  hand.  In  this  way,  follow- 
ing up  his  reading,  according  to  his  usual  method,  with  frequent 
and  mature  reflection  on  the  points  in  question  in  all  the  varie- 
ty of  their  bearings,  he  gradually  became  completely  master  of 
the  subject  of  the  Christian  religion,    of  the   evidence    for   its 


34  MEMOIR  OP  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

truth,  the  suitability  of  the  remedy  to  the    state  ol  man,   the 
poverty  and  Avant  of  solidity  in  all   the  Scriptural     objections 
brought  against  it,  and  the    true    method  of  confuting  each. 
The  abstract  which  he  has  given  of  the  opinions  of  Montaigne 
and  Epictetus,  shews  how  diligent  had  been  his  research   into 
the  opinions  of  other  men,  and  how  admirably  fitted  his  mind 
was  for  unraveling  their  sophistries,  and  exposing  their  errors. 
Pascal,  feeling  no  doubt  master  of  his  subject,  and  conscious 
in  a  degree,  of  the  fitness  of  his  powers  for  it ;  at   all   events, 
tracing  in  his  own  mind  a  clear  road  to  conviction  of  the  truth 
of  the  Christian  religion,   determined   to    write  a  comprehen- 
sive work  on  the  subject.     Like  most  of  his  subjects  of  thought, 
he  revolved  it  repeatedly  in  his  mind,  and  sometimes   spoke  of 
it.     On  one  occasion,  he  was  requested  to  give  in  conversation, 
an  outline  of  his  plan,    before   a  number  of  his    friends.       He 
consented  ;  and  in  an  extempore  discourse  of  from  two  to  three 
hours,  developed  the  plan  of  his  work.      He  pointed   out   the 
subject  on  which  he  purposed   to  treat ;    he    gave   a  concise 
abridgement  of  the  mode  of  reasoning,  and  a   synoptical  view 
of  the  order  in  which  the    different  branches  of  the  subject 
were  to  be  treated  :  and  his  friends  who  were    themselves   as 
capable  as  most  men  of  judging  in  such  a  case,   declared,  that 
they  had  never  heard  any  thing  more  admirable  or  more  pow- 
erfully convincing.     It  is  recorded,  that,  from  the   hasty  con- 
Tcrsational  view  which  he  then  gave  them  of  the  work,    they 
anticipated  a   splendid  performance  from  that  mind,  the  pow- 
ers of  which  they  well  knew,  and  whose  assiduity  they  knew 
to  be    such,  that   he   never    contented  himself  with  his   first 
thoughts,  but  wrote  and   re-wrote,  even    eight  or   ten    times, 
tracts,  which  any  one  but  himself,  would  have  thought  excel- 
lent at  first. 

For  this  work,  Pascal  had  been  preparing  several  years ;  but 
the  circumstances  which  occurred,  in  connection  wuth  the 
supposed  cure  of  his  niece,  Mademoiselle  Perier  at  Port  Royal,* 


*=The  facts  of  the  case   are   very  curious  ;    and  there   is   no 
doubt  that  M.     Pascal  believed  the  truth  of  the  miraculous 


4 


MEMOIR  or  BLAISE  PASCAL.  35 

and  -which  peculiarly  directed  his  attention  to  the  subject  of 
miracles,  accelerated  his  efforts  to  accomplish  it.  He  gave 
himself  entirely  to  the  work  ;  and  for  a  whole  year,  previously 
to  the  general  breaking  up  of  his  health,  he  was  occupied  in 
collecting  materials,  and  noting  down  his  thoughts  for  the  pur- 
pose. From  that  time,  however,  his  life  was  an  almost  un- 
broken continuance  of  suffering,  during  which  he  was  able  to 
do  little  towards  the  furtherance  of  his  object.  Worn  down 
with  pain,  and  oppressed  by  extreme  languor,  he  could  not  oc- 
cupy himself  in  lengthened  meditation,  and  his  utmost  effort 
was,  during  the  short  intervals  of  relief  from  pain  that  were 
granted  him,  to  write  down  his  thoughts  on  the  first  morsel  of 
paper  that  came  to  hand;  and  at  times,  v/hen  he  could  not 
hold  the  pen,  he  dictated  to  his  servant. 

In  this  way  Pascal  accumulated  materials  for  his  work. — 
The  whole  subject  came  repeatedly  before  him  in  the  detail  of 
its  different  parts  ;  and  any  thought  which  it  might  be  needful 
to  work  into  the  general  scheme  was  committed  to  paper  as  it 
arose,  and  with  a  degree  of  accuracy  or  inaccuracy,  according 
to  the  state  of  his  mind  or  body  at  the  time,  and  the  degree  of 
attention  that  he  was  enabled  to  give.  Hence  some  of  i^hem 
were  expressed  in  a  manner  peculiarly  short,  imperfect,  and 
enigmatical;  while  others  were  evidently  labored,  and  made  out 
with  care. 

But  in  the  mysterious  providence  of  God,  this  work  was 
not  to  be  completed.  The  health  of  the  author  rapidly  declined ; 
and  at  his  death,  nothing  was  found  of  it  but  this  mass  of  de- 
tached Thoughts,  written  on  separate  pieces  of  paper,  which 
were  evidently  the  raw  material,  out  of  which  he  had  purposed 
to  erect  the  fabric  that  he  had  planned. 

It  may  be  thought  by  some  surprising,  that  after  several 
years  of  study,  for  the  express  purpose,  nothing  more   connect- 


cure  :  but  to  go  into  a  minute  examination  of  th<r  circumstanc- 
es, would  far  exceed  the  limits  of  this  memoir,  and  must  be 
reserved  for  a  more  extensive  work  in  contemplation,  but  which 
may  perhaps  never  be  accomplished. 


36  MEMOIR  or  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

ed  was  found  among  his  writings ;  but  the  habit  of  his  mind 
explains  this.  It  had  always  been  his  custom  to  reflect  much 
on  the  subjects  on  which  he  wrote,  and  completely  to  arrange 
the  matter  in  his  mind  before  he  embodied  it  on  paper,  in  order 
that  he  might  ascertain  carefully  the  order  in  which  the  differ- 
ent parts  should  be  disposed,  so  as  to  produce  the  effect  which 
he  desired  ;  and  having  a  memory  so  retentive,  that  as  he 
used  to  say,  no  thought  which  he  had  once  strongly  impressed 
on  his  mind,  ever  escaped  him,  it  appears  probable,  that,  con- 
fiding to  the  clear  analytic  view  which  he  had  of  his  plan,  he 
went  on,  using  the  intervals  of  rest  from  pain,  to  collect  the 
specific  thoughts,  and  looking  to  a  period  of  greater  freedom 
from  disease,  to  bring  them  forth  according  to  the  general  ar- 
rangement on  which  he  had  determined.  That  period,  how- 
ever, did  not  arrive  ;  and  instead  of  a  luminous  and  compre- 
hensive defence  of  the  whole  Christian  scheme,  we  have  in 
his  Thoughts,  as  published,  only  some  imperfect  attempts,  ex- 
pressive of  his  intentions.  These  are,  however,  admirably 
calculated  to  suggest  subjects  of  interesting  speculation  to 
other  minds,  on  many  important  points  of  the  great  question 
which  he  had  in  view,  and  from  their  almost  unrivalled  excel- 
lence as  far  as  they  go,  must  ever  give  rise  to  sincere  and  deep 
fegret,  that  their  Author  left  his  work  unfinished. 

As  to  the  plan  of  the  work  we  are  left  entirely  to  conjec- 
ture,except  so  far  as  he  unfolded  it  in  the  conversation  before 
mentioned  ;  but  of  that  abridged  statement,  one  of  his  friends 
who  was  present  has  given  from  memory  the  following  account : 

"  After  having  shewn  them  what  modes  of  proof  produce  the 
the  greatest  impression  on  the  minds  of  men,  and  are  most  ef- 
fectual as  means  of  suasion,  he  undertook  to  shew  that  the 
Christian  religion  had  marks  of  certainty  as  decided,  and  evi- 
dence in  its  favor  as  strong,  as  any  of  these  things  which  are 
received  in  the  world  as  unquestionable. 

"  He  began  by  a  deliaeation  of  man,  in  which  he  omitted 
nothing  which  might  tend  to  give  him  a  minute  and  compre- 
hensive knowledge  of  himself,  both  within  and  without,  even 
to  the  most  secret  emotions  of  his  soul.     He  then  supposed  the 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE    PASCAL.  37 

case  of  a  man,  who,  having  lived  in  that  state  of  ignorance  in 
which  men  generally  live,  and  in  indifference  to  most  things 
around  him,  but  especially  to  those  which  concern  himself, 
comes  at  length,  to  consider  himself  in  the  picture  which  he 
had  previously  draAvn,  and  to  examine  what  he  really  is.  He 
is  surprised  with  the  discovery  which  he  makes  there  of  a  mul- 
titude of  things,  on  which  he  had  never  previously  thought  J 
and  he  cannot  notice  without  astonishment,  all  that  Pascal's 
description  causes  him  to  feel  of  his  greatness  and  his  vileness, 
his  power  and  his  weakness,  of  the  little  light  that  lingers  with 
him,  and  the  thick  darkness  which  almost  entirely  surrounds 
him,  and  of  all  those  wonderful  contrarieties  which  are  found 
in  his  nature.  After  this,  however  weak  his  intellectual  pow- 
ers may  be,  he  can  no  longer  remain  in  indifference  ;  and  how- 
ever insensible  he  may  have  been  hitherto  to  such  questions, 
he  cannot  but  wish,  after  having  ascertained  what  he  is,  to 
know  also  whence  he  came,  and  what  is  to  become  of  him. 

"  Pascal  having,  as  he  supposed,  thus  awakened  in  him  the 
disposition  to  seek  for  information  on  a  subject  so  important, 
proposed  to  direct  his  attention  first  to  the  philosophers  of  this 
world  ;  and  having  unfolded  to  him  all  that  the  wisest  philoso- 
phers of  all  the  different  sects  have  said  on  the  subject  of  man,  to 
point  out  to  him  so  many  defects,  weaknesses,  contradictions, 
and  falsehoods,  in  all  that  they  have  advanced,  that  it  would 
not  be  difficult  for  the  individual  in  question,  to  determine, 
that  it  is  not  in  the  schools  of  human  philosophy  that  he  must 
seek  for  instruction. 

"  He  then  carries  his  disciple  over  the  universe,  and  through 
all  the  ages  of  its  history,  and  points  out  to  him  the  variety  of 
religions  which  have  obtained  in  it ;  but  he  shews  him  at  the 
same  time,  by  strong  and  convincing  reasons,  that  all  these  reli- 
gions are  full  of  vanity  and  folly,  of  errors,  extravagance  and 
absurdity,  so  that  here  also  he  finds  nothing  which  can  give 
him  satisfaction. 

"  Then  Pascal  directs  his  attention  to   the   Jewish   people, 
and  points  out  a  train  of  circumstances  so  extraordinary,  that 
they  easily  rivet  his  attention.     And  having  called  his  atten- 
3 


38  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

tion  to  all  the  singularities  of  that  nation,  he  fixes  it  especially 
on  the  one  book  by  which  that  people  are  guided,  and  which 
comprehends  at  once  their  history,  their  law,  and  their  theol- 
ogy- 

"  Scarcely  has  he  opened  this  book,  when  he,  learns  that 
the  world  is  the  the  work  of  God,  and  that  the  same  God  has 
made  man  in  his  own  image,  and  endov/ed  him  with  all  the 
powers  of  body  and  mind,  adapted  to  this  state  of  being.  Al- 
though he  has  not  yet  attained  to  a  conviction  of  these  truths, 
they  are  a  source  of  gratification  to  him  ;  and  reason  alone  is 
sufficient  to  discover  to  him  more  probability  in  the  supposition 
that  one  God  is  the  creator  of  men,  and  of  all  things  in  the 
universe,  than  in  all  the  wild  inventions  which  tradition  offers 
elsewhere  to  his  notice.  He  soon  perceives,  however,  that  he 
is  far  from  possessing  all  the  advantages  which  belonged  to 
man,  when  he  first  came  from  the  hands  of  his  Maker.  But 
his  doubt  in  this  matter  is  speedily  cleared  up  ;  for  on  reading 
further,  he  ascertains,  that  after  man  had  been  created  in  a 
state  of  innocence,  and  gifted  with  many  perfections,  his  first 
act  was  to  rebel  against  his  maker,  and  to  use  his  new  created 
powers  in  ofi'ending  him. 

"  Pascal  proposed  then  to  shew  him,  that  this  crime  being 
one  of  the  most  aggravated  in  all  its  circumstances,  it  was 
punished,  not  only  in  the  first  man,  who,  having  fallen  by  that 
sinful  act,  sunk  at  once  into  misery,  and  weakness,  and  blind- 
ness, and  error,  but  also  in  all  his  descendants,  in  all  time 
foUov/ing,  to  whom  he  transmits,  and  will  transmit,  his  own 
corrupt  nature. 

"  His  plan  was  then  to  point  out  to  him  several  passages  of 
this  book,  inwhich  he  must  discover  the  averment  of  this  truth. 
He  shews  him  that  it  never  speaks  of  man  but  with  reference 
to  this  state  of  weakness  and  disorder ;  that  it  is  frequently 
gaid  there,  that  all  flesh  is  corrupt ;  that  men  are  become  sen- 
sual, and  they  have  a  bias  to  evil  from  their  birth.  He  shews 
him  that  this  first  fall  is  the  origin,  not  only  of  all  that  is  other- 
wise incomprehensible  in  the  nature  of  man,  but  also  of  many 
effects  which  are  external  to  him,    and  of  which   the   cause   is 


MEMOin,  or  BLAISE    PASCAL.  39 

otherwise  unknown.  In  fact,  it  "would  be  his  object  to  point 
out  man,  as  so  accurately  depicted  in  this  book,  that  lie 
would  appear  in  no  respect  different  from  the  character  which 
he  had  previously  traced. 

"  But  merely  to  teach  man  the  truth  of  his  misery,  would  not 
be  enough.  Pascal  proposed  to  shew  him,  that  in  this  same 
book  also  he  might  find  his  consolation.  He  would  point  out 
that  it  is  said  there,  that  the  remedy  of  this  evil  is  with  God  ; 
that  we  must  go  to  him  for  strength ;  that  he  will  have  com- 
passion, and  will  send  a  deliverer  w^ho  will  make  a  satisfaction 
for  guilty  man,  and  be  his  support  in  weakness. 

"  After  having  set  before  his  disciple  a  number  of  important 
remarks  on  the  sacred  book  of  this  peculiar  people,  he  propos- 
ed to  shew  him  that  this  was  the  only  book  which  had  spoken 
■worthily  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  that  had  given  the  idea  of 
an  universal  religion.  He  w^ould  point  out  what  should  be  the 
most  evident  marks  of  such  a  religion  ;  which  he  would  then 
apply  to  those  which  this  book  inculcated,  and  would  direct 
his  attention  especially  to  the  fact,  that  these  Scriptures  make 
the  essence  of  religion  to  consist  in  the  love  of  God,  which  is  a 
feature  entirely  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  distinguishes  them 
from  all  other  religious  writings  in  the  world,  the  falsehood  of 
which  appears  manifestly  detected  by  the  want  of  this  essen- 
tial characteristic. 

"  Hitherto,  although  Pascal  might  have  led  his  scholar  so  far 
onward  tow^ards  a  disposition  for  the  adoption  of  the  Christian 
religion,  he  had  said  nothing  to  convince  him  of  t^ie  truth  o* 
the  things  w^hich  he  had  discovered;  he  had  only  induced  in 
him  the  disposition  to  receive  them  with  pleasure,  if  he  could 
be  satisfied  that  it  was  his  duty;  he  had  led  him  to  wish  with 
his  wdiole  heart,  that  these  things  were  siibstantial  and  well 
founded  truths,  since  he  found  in  them  so  much  that  tended  to 
give  him  repose,  and  to  clear  up  his  serious  and  distressing 
doubts.  And  this,  M.  Pascal  considered,  is  the  state  in  which 
every  reasonable  man  should  be,  whp- has  once  seriously  en- 
tered on  that  train  of  considerations  that  he  wished  to  set 
before  the  mind  of  his  disciple  ;  and  that  there  is  reason  to  be- 


40  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

lieve,  that  a  man  in  such  a  state  of  mind,  would  then  easily  ad- 
mit all  the  proofs  which  might  be  brought  to  confirm  the  reality 
of  those  important  truths  of  which  he  had  spoken. 

"  Then  in  the  way  of  proof,  haA'ing  shewn  generally  that 
these  truths  were  contained  in  a  book,  the  genuineness  and 
authenticity  of  which,  could  not  reasonably  be  doubted,  he 
proposed  to  look  minutely  into  the  writing  of  Moses,  in  which 
these  truths  are  especially  taught,  and  to  shew  by  an  extensive 
series  of  unquestionable  proofs,  that  it  was  equally  impossible 
that  Moses  had  left  a  written  statement  of  untruths,  or  that  the 
people  to  whom  he  left  them,  could  have  been  deceived  as  to 
the  facts,  even  though  Moses  himself  had  been  an  impostor. 

"  He  would  speak  also  of  the  miracles  recorded  there,  and 
he  would  prove  that  it  was  not  possible  that  they  could  not  be 
true,  not  only  by  the  authority  of  the  book  that  relates  them, 
but  by  the  many  attendant  circumstances  which  made  them, 
in  themselves,  unquestionable. 

'^  Then  he  would  proceed  to* shew,  that  the  whole  law  of  Mo- 
ses was  figurative  ;  that  all  which  happened  to  the  Jews,  was 
but  a  type  of  the  realities  accomplished  at  the  coming  of  Mes- 
siah ;  and  that  the  veil  which  covered  these  types  having 
been  withdrawn,  it  had  become  easy  now  to  perceive  the 
complete  fulfilment  of  them,  in  those  who  had  received  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  promised  teacher  come  from  God. 

"  He  then  undertook  to  prove  the  truth  of  religion  by  proph- 
ecy;  and,  on  this  point,  he  spoke  more  fully  than  on  some  oth- 
ers. Havit)g  thought  and  examined  deeply  on  this  subject,  and 
having  views  which  were  quite  original,  he  explained  them 
with  great  accuracy,  and  set  them  forth  with  peculiar  force 
and  brilliancy. 

"  And  then  having  run  through  the  books  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  made  many  powerful  observations,  calculated  to 
serve  as  convincing  proofs  of  the  truths  of  religion,  he  proposed 
to  speak  of  the  New  Testament,  and  to  draw  from  it  the  proofs 
•which  it  afforded  of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel. 

"  He  began  with  Jesus  Christ ;  and  although  he  had  already 
triumphantly  proved  his  MesEiahship  by  prophecy,  and  by  the 


MEMOm  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  41 

types  of  the  law  which  he  shewed  to  have  in  him  their  perfect 
accomplishment,  he  adduced  further  proofs  still,  drawn  from 
his  person,  his  miracles,  his  doctrine,  and  the  events  of  his  life. 

"  He  then  came  down  to  the  Apostles  ;  and  in  order  to  shew 
the  truth  of  that  faith  which  they  had  so  generally  preached,  he 
^r*/ established  the  notion  that  they  could  not  be  accused  of 
supporting  a  false  system,  but  upon  the  supposition,  either  that 
they  were  deceivers,  or  were  themselves  deceived ;  and  then 
in  the  second  place,  he  shewed  that  the  one  and  the  other  of 
these  suppositions  were  equally  impossible. 

"  Finally,  he  took  a  very  comprehcmsive  view  of  the  evangelic 
history,  making  some  admirable  remarks  on  the  gospel  itself, — 
on  the  style  and  character  of  the  evangelists, — on  the  apostles 
and  their  writings, — on  the  great  number  of  miracles, — on  the 
saints  and  martyrs  of  the  early  church,  and  on  all  the  various 
means  by  which  the  Christian  religion  had  obtained  a  footing 
in  the  world  :  and  although  it  was  quite  impracticable  in  such 
a  discourse,  to  treat  such  an  extensive  ra.nge  of  material  at 
length,  and  v/ith  the  minuteness,  accuracy,  and  collective 
force  which  he  purposed  in  his  work,  he  said  enough  to  exhibit 
most  luminously,  the  conclusion  to  which  he  wished  to  come, 
tha.t  God.  only  could  have  so  conducted  the  issue  of  so  many 
different  agents  and  influences,  as  that  they  should  all  concur 
in  supporting  the  religion  which  he  himself  wished  to  establish 
among  men.'" 

This  is  the  short  Abstract  which  has  been  handed  down  of 
the  plan  of  M.  Pascal's  work  ;  and  short  as  it  is,  it  gives  us 
some  faint  view  of  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  genius — of  the 
grasp  that  he  had  of  his  subject,  and  of  the  irresistible  mass  of 
evidence  in  existence  for  the  support  of  the  Christian  religion, 
if  it  could  be  thus  brought  to  bear  upon  the  question  by  the 
energies  of  one  great  mind  adapted  for  the  purpose.  It  must 
remain  a  matter  of  wonder  to  short-sighted  mortals,  why  a 
work  apparently  so  important,  should  not  have  been  permitted 
to  reach  its  completion.  Perhaps  the  explanation  of  this  diffi- 
culty may,  in  some  measure,  be  obtained  from  one  of  M.  Pas- 
cal's Thoughts,  in  which  he  says,  "  So  many  men  make  them- 
3* 


42  MEEOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

selve  unworthy  of  God's  clemency,  that  he  is  willing  to  leave 
them  ignorant  of  those  blessings  for  which  they  do  not  care  to 
seek,  [t  was  not  right  that  he  should  appear  in  a  mode  une- 
quivocally divine,  so  as  to  force  conviction  upon  all  men.  Nor 
was  it  right  that  he  should  be  so  entirely  concealed,  as  not  to 
be  recognized  by  those  who  sincerely  seek  him.  To  such  he 
» wished  to  be  known  ;  and  willing  therefore  to  be  discovered 
by  those  who  seek  him  with  their  whole  heart,  but  hidden 
from  those  who  as  heartily  avoid  him,  he  has  so  regulated  the 
discovery  of  himself,  that  he  has  given  evidences  which  will 
be  clear  and  satisfactory  to  those  who  really  seek  him,  but 
dark,  and  doubtful,  and  depressing,  to  those  who  seek  hi^n 
not."  On  this  ground  probably  it  is,  that  the  evidences  for 
our  religion  which  do  exist,  have  never  yet  been  accumulated 
with  all  their  force  and  brilliancy,  so  as  to  exhibit  one  com- 
prehensive and  conclusive  testimony  to  the  truth. 

But  though  Pascal  did  not  live  to  complete  his  work,  the 
fragments  that  he  left  behind  him  were  too  valuable  to  be 
lost.  It  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  given  as  a  posthu- 
mous work  to  the  public.  His  friends,  therefore,  who  were 
aware  of  his  design  to  write  such  a  work,  were  peculiarly 
careful  after  his  death,  to  collect  every  thing  which  he  had 
written  on  the  subject ;  and  they  found  only  the  Thoughts 
which  are  published,  with  others  yet  more  imperfect  and  ob- 
scure, written,  as  has  been  mentioned,  on  separate  pieces  of 
paper,  and  tied  up  in  several  bundles,  without  any  connection 
or  arrangement  whatever,  but  evidently  being,  in  the  greater 
proportion  of  instances,  the  mere  rough  expression  of  thought 
as  it  first  entered  his  mmd.  He  had  been  often  heard  to  say, 
that  the  work  would  require  ten  years  of  health  to  complete 
it ;  and  he  had  only  been  able  to  devote  to  it  the  short  inter- 
vals of  comparative  ease,  or  rather  of  less  acute  suffering, 
which  he  enjoyed  during  four  or  five  years  of  a  complicated 
mortal  disease. 

At  first,  from  their  confused  and  imperfect  state,  it  seemed 
almost  impossible  to  give  these  papers  publicity  ;  but  the  de- 
mand for  them,  even  as  they  were,  was  so   impatient,  that   it 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  43 

became  necessary  to  gratify  it  ;and  the  labour  of  editing  them 
was  committed  to  his  leading  confidential  friends,  the  Due  de 
Roannez,  and  Messieurs  Arnauld,  Nicole,  De  Treville,  Dubois, 
De  la  Chaise,  and  the  elder  Perier. 

And  here  a  serious  difficulty  was  to  be  encountered  on  the 
threshhold.  In  what  form  should  these  fragments  be  given  to 
the  world?  To  print  them  precisely  in  the  state  in  which  they 
were  found,  would  be  worse  than  useless.  They  would  have 
been  a  mass  of  mere  confusion.  To  complete  them,  as  far  as 
possible,  by  adding  to  the  imperfect  Thoughts,  and  enlighten- 
ing the  obscure,  would  have  produced  a  very  interesting  and 
useful  work ;  but  it  would  not  have  been  the  work  of  Pascal, 
even  supposing  the  editors  able  to  enter  fully  into  his  original 
design.  Both  these  methods,  there  fore,  were  rejected  ;  and  a 
third  plan  was  adopted,  according  to  which  they  are  now  re- 
printed. The  editors  selected  from  a  great  number  of 
Thoughts,  those  which  appeared  the  most  perfect  and  intelli- 
gible ;  ar.d  these  they  printed  as  they  found  them,  without  ad- 
dition or  alteration,  except  that  they  arranged  them  as  nearly 
as  might  be  in  that  order,  which,  according  to  the  Syllabus 
that  Mr.  Pascal  had  formerly  given  of  his  plan,  they  conceived 
would  come  nearest  to  his  wishes. 

The  first  editions  of  the  work  were  comparatively  imper- 
fect ;  but  subsequently,  many  other  valuable  Thoughts  were 
gleaned  from  the  MSS.  and  in  the  later  editions  an  accurate 
collation  with  the  original  papers  has  secured,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble the  meaning  of  the  Author.  The  first  edition  was  printed 
in  1669,  and  was  surprisingly  successful.  Tellemont,  in  speak- 
ing of  it,  says,  "  It  has  even  surpassed  all  that  I  expected  from 
a  mind  which  I  considered  the  greatest  that  had  appeared  in 
one  century.  I  see  only  St.  Augustine  that  can  be  compared 
with  him."  And  most  unquestionably,  however  imperfect  the 
work  remains,  or  rather,  though  it  falls  entirely  short  of  being 
the  efficient  defence  of  the  Christian  religion  which  Pascal  had 
contemplated;  yet  even  now,  this  collection  of  scattered 
Thoughts  stand  forth  to  claim  the  meed  of  praise,  as  a  work  of 


44  ME3I0IR  OF  EI-AI5E  PASCAL. 

unrivalled  excellence.  It  bears  the  marks  of  the  most  extra- 
ordmary  genius.  It  exhibits  a  master's  hand  in  touching  the 
difficult  questions  of  the  evidences  for  our  religion,  and  in 
probing  the  secrets  of  the  human  heart.  It  exhibits  many 
points  of  the  argument  with  great  originality  and  force,  and 
contains  the  germ  of  many  new  and  valuable  speculations. 
Many  of  these  Thoughts,  hastily  and  imperfectly  expressed  as 
they  are,  have  been  the  native  ore,  out  of  which  other  stu- 
dents have  drawn  the  most  valuable  and  elaborate  treatises 
on  different  points  of  the  extensive  argument  which  he  purpos- 
ed to  consider.* 

But  one  of  the  finest  features  of  the  work,  is,  the  mastery 
■which  his  mighty  mind  had  over  the  human  heart.  Pascal 
had  been  a  diligent  student  of  his  own  heart ;  he  knew  its  ten- 
dencies, its  weaknesses,  its  errors.  He  knew  what  v.^ere  its 
natural  resources  for  comfort,  and  he  knev/  their  vanity  ;  and 
having  gone  down  into  the  depths  of  the  question  for  his  own 
sake,  he  was  able  to  deal  with  a  resistless  power  with  the  chil- 
dren of  sin  and  folly.  He  could  strip  their  excuses  of  all  vain 
pretence.  He  could  exhibit  their  lying  vanities  in  all  their 
poverty  and  comfortlessness  ;  and  he  could  set  forth  man  in  all 
the  reality  of  hi>  misery,  as  a  dark  and  cheerless  being,  with- 
out hope  or  solace,  except  he  find  it  in  the  mercy  of  his  God, 
and  in  the  revealed  record  of  his  compassion. 

It  is  this  extensive  knowledge  of  human  nature  which  con- 
stitutes the  peculiar  charm  of  the  Pensees.  They  who  read 
it,  feel  that  the  writer  gets  within  their  guard  ;  that  he  has, 
from  experience,  the  power  of  entering  into  the  secret  chamber 


*A  work  of  very  superior  talent  on  Prophecy  has  been  lately 
sent  forth  by  the  Rev.  John  Davidson  of  Oriel  College,  Oxon, 
of  which  the  germ  is  to  be  found  in  the  following  Thousrht  of 
M.  Pascal.  "  The  prophecies  are  composed  of  particular 
prophecies,  and  prophecies  relating  to  the  Messiah  ;  in  order 
that  the  prophecies  of  Messiah  might  not  be  without  collateral 
proof,  and  that  the  prophecies  relating  to  particular  cases, 
might  not  be  useless  in  the  general  system." 


MEMOIR  OF  CI.AISE  PASCAl-.  45 

of  their  conscience,  and  exhibiting  to  them  the  many  evils 
which  would  otherwise  lie  there  unmolested,  but  which,  seen 
in  the  light  in  which  he  placed  them,  must  be  recognized  as 
their  own.  The  arguments  of  such  a  writer  must  have  weight ; 
and  it  is  almost  liatural  to  feel,  that  he  who  has  so  thorough  a 
knowledge  of  the  disease,  may  be  followed  in  his  recommenda- 
tion of  a  remedy. 

The  close,  however,  of  M.  PascaPs  life  demands  our  atten- 
tion. His  infirmities  and  sufferings  rapidly  increased  ;  and  at 
length  unfitted  him  for  any  exertion  whatever;  but  they  had 
a  most  blessed  effect  upon  himself  as  the  means  of  preparing 
him  more  manifestly  and  entirely  for  a  holier  world.  It  was 
evidently  his  wish  to  detach  himself  as  much  as  possible  from 
the  present  material  scene  ;  and,  with  this  view,  he  made  it  a 
matter  of  conscience  to  check  the  indulgence  of  all  his  appe- 
tites and  affections.  His  disease  rendered  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  his  food  should  be  very  delicate,  but  he  was  always 
anxious  to  take  it  without  occupying  his  mind  with  it,  or  re- 
marking upon  its  flavor.  All  this  he  considered  as  savoring 
strongly  of  sensuality.  He  objected  therefore  to  the  introduc- 
tion of  any  kind  of  sauces,  even  the  juice  of  an  orange  into  his 
food,  and  rigidly  regulated  the  quantity  which  he  thought  he 
ought  to  take  daily  for  his  sustenance  ;  and  this  he  would  not 
exceed.  He  watched  with  an  anxious  jealousy  over  the  still 
stronger  passions,  lest  the  slightest  indulgence  should  be  given 
to  them,  in  himself  or  others.  His  views  of  the  necessity  of 
purity  in  general  conversation,  were  of  the  highest  kind  ;  and 
he  would  not  even  allow  his  sister  to  remark  on  the  personal 
beauty  of  any  one  whom  she  had  seen,  lest  in  the  minds  of  his 
servants,  of  young  people  or  himself,  it  should  give  rise  to  a 
questionable  thought. 

M.  Pascal  felt  it  necessary,  even  to  detach  himself  still 
more  from  the  present  world,  and  to  restrain  within  himself 
those  excessive  attachments  to  lawful  objects  here,  to  which 
he  was  by  nature  strongly  disposed. '  His  most  ardent  affec- 
tions for  any  thing  in  this  life  were  given  to  his  sister  Jacqueline; 
yet  so  effectually  had  he,  by  Divine   contemplatiov.,   become 


46  ME.-'.IOiR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

elevated  above  the  common  views  which  men  take  of  separa- 
tion by  death,  and  so  entirely  was  he  absorbed  in  approbation 
of  the  will  of  God,  that  when  her  death  was  announced  to 
him,  an  event  which  occurred  about  six  months  anterior  to  his 
own,  he  merely  said,  "  May  God  give  us  grace  to  die  as  she 
died  ;■"  and  thenceforth,  he  never  spoke  of  her,  but  to  remark 
on  the  grace  with  which  God  had  blessed  her  during  her  life, 
and  the  peculiar  mercy  of  her  death  at  that  time,  in  the  crisis 
of  the  afflictions  and  persecutions  of  the  Port  Royal  establish- 
ments ;  concluding  always  with  the  passage  of  Scripture, 
'''•  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord.'''' 

But  this  endeavor  to  break  loose  from  all  earthly  attachments 
did  not  arise  in  him,  as  it  does  in  some  Stoical  minds,  from  a 
proud  sense  of  superiority,  and  a  dominant  feeling  of  satisfac- 
tion in  himself.  On  the  contrary,  he  powerfully  felt  his  own 
defects, — he  w^as  equally  anxious  that  others  should  not  form 
any  attachments  to  him.  On  this  point  he  became  so  deter- 
mined, and  so  conscientiously  strict,  that  his  manner  seriously 
grieved  his  sister,  Madame  Perier,  during  his  last  illness,  who 
complained  of  the  evident  coldness  and  reserve  wdth  W'liich  he 
received  her  tenderest  and  most  assiduous  attention  to  his  in- 
firmities. Madame  Perier  states,  that  this  dryness  and  reserve 
•were  to  her  very  enigmatical,  because  she  saw,  notwithstand- 
ing the  coldness  of  his  general  manner,  that  whenever  an  op- 
portunity occurred  in  which  he  could  serve  her,  he  embraced 
it  with  all  his  original  ardor  ;  and  she  mentions,  that  the  dif- 
ficulty on  her  mind  in  this  respect,  was  never  cleared  up  till 
the  day  of  his  death,  when  he  stated  his  views  to  a  friend, 
that  it  was  highly  criminal  for  a  human  being,  full  of  infirmities 
to  attempt  to  occupy  the  affections  of  a  heart  Avhich  should  be 
given  to  God  only,  and  that  it  w^as  robbing  God  of  the  most 
precious  thing  that  this  world  afforded. 

Nor  did  Pascal's  endeavor  to  rise  superior  to  earthly  attach- 
ments, originate  in  hard-heartedness  or  misanthropy.  On  the 
contrary,  in  proportion  as  he  separated  himself  from  the  ties  o* 
affection  to  relatives,  and  well  known  individuals,  his  affec- 
tions towards  the  poor  and  the  afflicted  of  his  fellow-creaturca 


1 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL*  47 

increased.  And  herein  he  obtained  an  eminent  degree  of  as- 
similation to  the  Divine  mind.  When  a  stone  is  thrown  into 
the  water,  the  ripple  occasioned  nearest  to  the  centre  of  im- 
pulse, is  the  largest ;  and  as  the  circles  "widen  and  recede,  it 
diminishes.  This  is  an  emblem  of  human  affection.  The 
nearer  the  relation  of  the  object  to  ourselves,  the  "warmer  is 
our  love  ;  and  as  the  objects  become  remote,  our  love  declines 
till  it  is  scarcely  perceptible.  Perfect  love,  the  love  of  God, 
is  the  same  to  all ;  and  with  him,  nearness  of  relation,  or  po- 
sition makes  no  difference.  All  God's  creatures  are  loved  by 
him,  with  an  affection  proportioned  to  their  real  worth ;  and 
the  more  fully  we  are  assimilated  to  the  Divine  Being,  the 
more  shall  we  realize  of  this  reigning  principle  of  love;  we 
shall  love  not  because  we  are  loved,  or  because  we  receive 
any  thing  again,  or  because,  in  the  person  of  our  relatives,  we 
bestow  our  affection  remotely  on  our  own  flesh  ;  but  we  shall 
love  souls  for  ther  own  sake,  for  their  intrinsic  value  as  the 
creatures'of  God,  and  as  sharers  with  us  in  the  same  necessi- 
ties and  distresses. 

M.  Pascal's  regard  for  the  necessities  of  the  poor  was  so 
great,  that  he  could  not  refuse  to  give  alms,  even  though  he 
was  compelled  to  take  from  the  supply  necessary  to  relieve  his 
own  iniirmities.  And  when  at  times  he  exceeded  his  income, 
and  his  friends  remonstrated  with  him  on  account  of  it,  he  would 
answer,  "  I  have  invariably  found,  that  however  poor  a  man 
is,  he  has  something  left  when  he  dies."  Pie  was  often  reduc- 
ed to  the  necessity  of  borrowing  money  at  interest,  to  indulge 
him.self  in  these  charitable  donations.  And  atone  time,  when 
there  v/as  a  prospect  of  his  income  being  increased,  he  proposed 
to  borrow  a  large  sum  in  advance,  upon  the  strength  of  his  ex- 
pectations, that  he  might  send  it  to  the  poor  of  Blois,  whose 
distresses  v/here  then  peculiarly  severe. 

His  views  on  the  subject  of  charity  towards  the  poor,  are 
thus  given  by  Madame  Perier.  "His  regard  for  the  poor  had 
always  been  great ;  but  it  was  so  far  increased  towards  the 
close  of  his  life,  that  I  could  not  please  him  better  than  by  in- 
dulging it.     For  four  years  he  contiued  to  press   upon  me  the 


48  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

duty  of  dedicating  myself  and  my  children  to  the  service  of 
the  poor.  And  when  I  replied,  that  I  feared  this  would  inter- 
fere with  the  proper  care  of  my  family,  he  answered,  '  That 
this  was  only  the  want  of  good-will,  and  that  this  virtue  might 
he  practised  without  any  injury  to  domestic  concerns.'  He 
said  that  charity  was  generally  the  vocation  of  Christians,  and 
that  it  needed  no  particular  mark  to  indicate  a  call  to  it,  for  it 
was  certain,  that  on  that  very  ground,  Christ  would  judge  the 
world  ;  and  that  when  we  consider  that  the  mere  omission  of 
this  duty  will  be  the  cause  of  the  souPs  eternal  ruin,  this  one 
thought,  if  we  have  faith,  should  lead  us  willingly  to  suffer  the 
privation  of  all  things.  He  said  also  that  the  habit  of  going 
among  the  poor,  is  extremely  useful,  because  we  acquire  a 
practical  conviction  of  the  miseries  under  which  they  suffer  ; 
and  we  cannot  see  them  wanting,  in  their  extremity,  the  com- 
mon necessaries  and  comforts  of  life  without  being  willing  to 
part  with  our  own  luxurious  superfluities. 

"  Such  sentiments  led  us  to  adopt  some  general  plan,  accord- 
ing to  which,  the  necessities  of  all  might  be  supplied  ;  but 
this  he  did  not  approve.  He  said,  we  were  not  called  to  act 
on  general  principles,  but  to  meet  particular  cases  ;  and  he 
believed,  that  the  most  pleasing  method  of  serving  God,  was 
in  serving  the  poor  out  of  poverty  ;  that  each  should  relieve 
the  poor  around  him,  according  to  his  several  ability,  without 
occupying  his  mind  with  those  great  designs,  which  aim  at  a 
fancied  and  probably  unattainable  excellence  of  operation, 
and  leave  the  practicable  good  undone  ;  and  that  instead  of 
intermeddling  with  great  enterprises  which  are  reserved  fir 
but  few,  Christians  generally  were  called  to  the  daily  assist- 
ance of  the  poor  in  the  particular  cases  which  occurred  within 
the  sphere  of  their  own  immediate  influence."* 


*This  thought  Avill  recall  to  the  attention,  the  lessons  of  a 
modern  school  of  no  little  celebrity;  and  the  peculiar,  but 
important  and  convincing  stalements  of  one  great  mind,  from 
which  that  school  has  origiuated.     It  is  impossible  to  be   well 


MEMOIR  or  Bf.AISE  PASCAL.  49 

One  very  interesting  instance  of  PascaPs  benevolence  oc- 
curred about  three  months  before  his  death.  As  he  returned 
one  day  from  the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice,  he  was  accosted  by  a 
young  person  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  very  beautiful, 
who  asked  charity.  He  felt  the  danger  of  her  situation,  and 
inquired  into  her  circumstances  ;  and  having  learned  that  she 
came  from  the  country — that  her  father  was  dead  and  that 
her  mother  being  ill,  had  been  that  day  brought  to  the  Hotel 
Dieu  for  medical  assistance  ;  he  regarded  himself  as  sent  of 
God  to  her  relief,  in  the  crisis  of  her  necessity  ;  and  he  took 
her,  without  delay,  to  a  seminary,  where  he  placed  her  tin- 
der the  care  of  a  pious  clergyman,  provided  for  her  support, 
and,  through  the  assistance  of  a  female  friend,  settled  her,  at 
length,  in  a  comfortable  situation. 

Another  instance  of  the  extreme  force  of  the  principle  of 
charity  in  his  mind,  occurred  subsequently  to  this.  He  had 
been  seized  with  such  a  degree  of  nausea,  that  his  medical  at- 
tendant had  required  him  to  abstain  from  all  solid  food  ;  and 
he  was,  in  consequence,  reduced  to  great  v/eakness.  He  had 
in  his  house  at  the  time,  a  poor  man,  with  his  wife  and  family, 
for  whose  accommodation,  he  had  given  up  one  of  his  rooms. 
One  of  his  children  had  fallen  ill  of  the  small-pox;  and  Pascal 
who  needed  at  the  time,  on  account  of  his  great  debility,  the 
attendance  pf  his  sister,  was  unwilling  that  she  should  come 
to  him,  from  the  risk  of  infection  to  her  children.  It  became 
necessary,  therefore,  that  he  and  his  sick  inmate  should  sepa- 
rate }  but  considering  the  probability  of  danger  to  the  child,  if 
he  were  removed,  he  preferred  to  submit  to  the  inconvenience 
himself,  and  consequently,  allowing  the  poor  family  to  retain 
possession,  he  left  his  own  house,  never  to  return,  and  came  to 
die  at  Madame  Perier's.  Whether  this  be  viewed  in  the  light 
of  an  act  of  tenderness  to   the  poor,  or  of  self-denial    for   the 


acquainted  with  the  writings  of  Pascal  and  of  Chalmers,  and 
not  to  feel  in  more  instances  than  one,  the  striking  coincidence 
of  thought  between  them. 

4 


50  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

comfort  and  the  safety  of  his  relatives,  it  is  equally  lovely,  and 
worthy  of  regard  and  veneration. 

Three  days  after  this  circumstance,  Pascal  was  visited  by 
that  attack  of  disease  which  removed  him  out  of  this  -present 
world.  It  began  with  violent  internal  pain  ;  the  severity  of 
which,  he  endured  with  wonderful  patience  and  composure. 
His  medical  attendants  perceived,  that  his  sufferings  were  very 
great;  but  finding  his  pulse  good,  and  no  appearance  of  fever, 
they  ventured  to  assure  his  friends,  that  there  was  not  the  least 
shadov/  of  danger.  Pascal  however  felt,  that  owing  to  the 
severity  of  his  sufferings,  and  the  exhaustion  of  constant  sleep- 
lessness, he  was  becoming  much  enfeebled,  and  on  <he  fourth 
day  of  his  illness,  sent  for  the  curate  of  the  parish,  and  confes- 
sed. The  report  of  this  spread  rapidly  among  his  frienda; 
and  they  gathered  round  him,  overwhelmed  with  apprehen- 
sion. The  medical  men  were  so  surprised  by  this,  that  they 
said,  it  Vv-as  an  indication  of  fear  on  his  part,  which  they  did 
pot  anticipate  from  him  ;  and  notwithstanding  his  suspicions, 
they  persisted  in  maintaining  a  favorable  opinion  of  his  case. 
In  the  mean  time,  however,  he  became  much  more  emaciated, 
and  believing,  in  opposition  to  all  their  representations,  that 
be  was  really  in  danger,  he  communicated  freely  and  repeat- 
edly v/ith  the  curate,  on  the  subject  of  his  religious  hope. 

At  this  time  also  he  made  his  will,  on  which  occasion  he 
stated,  that  if  M.  Perier  had  been  at  Paris,  and  would  have 
consented,  he  Avould  have  given  all  his  propf:rty  to  the  poor. 
He  said  to  Madgime  Perier,  "  How  is  it  that  I  have  done  nothing 
for  the  poor,  though  I  haye  always  loyed  them  ?"  To  which 
&he  replied,  "  Your  means  have  not  been  such  as  to  enable  you 
to  do  much  for  them.''  "  But,"  said  he,  "  if  I  could  not  give 
them  money,  I  might,  at  least,  have  given  my  time  and  my 
labor.  Here  I  have  come  short  indeed  !  And  if  the  physicians 
are  right,  and  God  permits  me  to  recover,  I  am  determined  tq 
have  no  other  employment  all  the  rest  of  my  life." 

There  are  multitudes  of  persons  gifted  with  both  wealth  and 
leisure,  who  know  nothing  whatever  of  the  wants  and  miseries 
p{  the  poor,  and  of  those  scenes  of  distress  and  death  which 


3VIEM01R  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  61 

occur  around  them,  and  which,  a  little  attention  on  their  part, 
might  materially  alleviate.  To  float  upon  the  stream  of  pleas- 
ure,— to  indulge  a  luxurious  and  selfish  listlessness,  in  the 
expenditure  of  all  the  means  that  they  can  command, — to  turn 
away  from,  and  forget  that  others  are  miserable,  this  seems 
with  manj"-  the  great  object  of  life.  Let  such  persons  look  at 
Pascal,  at  the  close  of  a  life  of  disease,  the  small  intervals  of 
which,  he  had  dedicated  to  useful  and  charitable  purposes ; — 
let  them  consider  his  sincere  and  penitential  regrets,  that  hfe 
had  done  so  little  for  his  poorer  felloAV  creatures  ;  and  then  let 
them  ask  themselves,  how  they  will  meet  the  solemn  scrutiny 
of  that  hour,  when  God  will  enter  into  judgment  with  them  ? 
It  is  an  awful  sentence,  "■  In  as  much  as  ye  did  it  not^  to  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  did  it  not  to  me."  The  truly 
Christian  view  of  duty  in  this  respect  is,  that  the  gifts  of  a 
bounteous  Providence  are  not  bestowed  on  us  for  personal  in- 
dulgence ;  but  that  while  we  take  moderate  and  rational  en- 
joyment of  the  comforts  of  life,  we  should  regard  ourselves  as 
stewards  of  the  manifold  gifts  of  God,  to  dispense  blessings  to 
those  who  suffer,  and  to  make  the  opportunity  of  relieving  tem- 
f)oral  distresses,  the  channel  for  a  gift  still  more  valuable,  in  the- 
iustruction  of  the  soul  in  righteousness. -—To  live  for  this,  is 
duty  and  happiness. 

The  Saviour  of  mankind  lived  among  the  poor  of  this  world, 
and  laboured  for  their  relief  and  for  their  salvation.  Pascal 
endeavoured  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  his  blessed  Master,  and 
only  regretted,  that  he  had  done  this  so  imperfectly.  And 
whoever  shall  strive  sincerely  to  follow  the  lovely  example  of 
Christ's  most  holy  life,  will  find'  in  it,  both  here  and  heerafter, 
an  abundant  blessing, — a  blessing  which  no  contins:ency  can 
alter — the  present  sense  of  Divine  favor  on  earth,  and  the  ap- 
proving'smile  of  his  gracious  and  compassionate  Lord  in  heaven. 

The  patience  with  which  Pascal  endured  pain  was  equally 
remarkable  w^ith  his  overflowing  love  to  the  poor.  When  some 
one  observed  to  him  the  distress  which  they  felt  at  seeing  him 
suffer,  he  answered,  "  It  does  not  grieve  me.  I  only  fear  to 
be  relieved.     I  know  both  the  dangers  of  health,  and  the  bene^ 


52  MEBIOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

fit  of  suffering.  Do  not  mourn  for  me ;  disease  is  the  nat- 
ural and  proper  state  for  Christians.  Then  we  are,  as  we 
ought  to  be, — in  a  state  of  affliction,  by  which  we  become  alie- 
nated from  the  joys  and  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  delivered 
from  those  papsi'ons  which  disturb  all  other  periods  of  our  life^ 
we  are  freed  from  ambition  and  from  avarice,  and  looking  per- 
petually for  death.  Is  not  this  the  life  that  a  Christian  should 
live  ?  Is  it  not  a  privilege  to  be  brought  into  a  state  that  makes 
it  imperative  so  to  live ;  and  that  requires  only  the  duty  of 
humble  and  thankful  submission  ?  For  this  reason,  I  desire  no 
other  blessing  now  of  God,  than  that  he  Avould  continue  to  me 
the  grace  of  sanctified  affliction." 

He  was  so  simple  and  child-like  in  his  spirit,  that  he  would 
listen  to  any  one  who  pointed  ont  a  fault  in  him,  and  yield  im- 
plicitly to  their  advice.  The  exquisite  sensitiveness  of  his  mind 
sometimes  betrayed  him  into  impatience  ;  but  if  this  was  men- 
tioned to  him,  or  if  he  discovered  thathe  had  grieved  any  one, 
he  instantly  addressed  himself  to  reparation  of  his  fault,  by 
acts  of  the  most  unqualified  tenderness  and  kindness.  The 
Curate  of  St.  Etienne,  who  attended  him  during  the  whole  ofhis 
?llnees,  l'?'rci  to  say  repeatedly,  ''He  is  an  mfant — humble^ 
and  submissive  as  an  infant."  And  another  ecclesiactic  who 
came  to  see  him  and  remained  an  hour  wjih  him,  said  to  Ma- 
dame Perier  when  he  left  him,  "Be  comforted,  Madame;  if 
God  calls  him,  you  have  good  reason  to  bless  him  for  the  grace 
bestowed  on  your  brother.  I  have  always  admired  many  no- 
ble points  about  his  character ;  but  I  have  never  noticed  any 
thing  superior  to  the  child-like  simplicity  which  he  now  exhib- 
its. In  a  great  mind  like  his,  this  is  incomparably  lovely.  I 
would  gladly  change  places  with  him." 

As  the  time  drev/  on,  he  earnestly  desired  to  receive  the 
sacrament;  but  tht* medical  men  opposed  it,  on  the  ground, 
that  they  could  not  justify  the  administering   tlie   viaticum* 


*In  the  Romish  Church,  this   ternn  signifies    the   communion 
or  eucharist  administered  to  the  sick,  on  the  near  approach  cX 
death.     A.E. 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  63' 

because  he  was  not  in  immediate  danger  of  death  ;  and  be- 
cause he  was  too  weak  to  receive  it  with  fasting,  according  to 
the  customary  method  of  persons  not  dangerously  ill;  and  that 
it  was  preferable,  that  he  should  wait  till  he  was  able  to  re- 
ceive it  at  the  church.  His  sufferings,  however,  continued  to  in- 
crease ;  and  though  they  yielded,  in  a  degree,  to  the  influence 
of  medicine,  they  were,  at  length,  attended  with  severe  pain 
and  giddiness  in  the  head,  Vv'hich  distressed  him  greatly,  and 
induced  him  to  press  on  his  friends  with  the  greatest  earnest- 
ness, that  they  would  allow  him  to  partake  of  the  Lord''s  Sup- 
per, and  cease  to  make  those  objections  by  which  he  had 
hitherto  been  prevented  from  receiving  it.  He  said,  "  they  do 
not  feel  what  I  suffer ;  and  they  will  find  themselves  jnistaken 
about  me.  There  is  something  very  extraordinary  about  the 
pain  in  my  head.""  When,  however,  he  found  that  his  wish 
was  still  opposed,  he  ceased  to  importune,  but  said,  "  since 
they  will  not  grant  me  this  favor,  let  me,  at  least,  substitute 
something  else  in  its  stead.  If  I  may  not  communicate  with  the 
head,  at  least,  let  me  have  communion  with  the  members. — 
Let  a  poor  person  be  brought  into  the  house  and  treated  with 
the  same  attention  as  myself,  that  in  the  confusion  with  which 
I  am- overwhelmed  at  the  abundance  of  my  mercies,  I  may,  at 
least,  have  the  gratification  of  knowing  that  one  poor  creature 
shares  them  with  me.  For  when  I  thmk  of  my  own  comforts, 
and  of  the  multitude  of  poor  who  are  in  a  worse  state  tha  n  I 
am,  and  are  destitute  of  the  merest  necessaries,  I  feel  a  dis- 
tress which  I  cannot  endure."  And^  when  he  found  that  this 
wish  could  not  be  granted,  he  entreated  to  be  carried  out  to 
the  Hospital  of  the  Incurables,  that  he  might  die  among  the 
poor.  He  was  told,  that  the  physicians  could  not  consent  to 
his  being  removed,  at  which  he  was  much  grieved,  and  made 
his  sister  promise,  that  if  he  at  all  revived,  this  indulgenc« 
should  be  granted  to  him. 

About  midnight,  however,  of  the  17th  of  August,  he  waa 
seized  with  violent  convulsions,  at  the  termination  of  which, 
he  appeared  to  be  rapidly  sinking  ;  and   his   friends   began  to 

fear,  that  although   Madame  Perier,  had,  of  her   own  accorck 
4*  ' 


54  MEMOIR  OP  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

made  arrangements  for  his  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Supper  on 
that  day,  he  must,  at  length,  die  without  the  comfort  of  that 
sacred  ordinance  which  he  had  so  earnestly  requested,  and 
which  they,  at  the  instance  of  the  medical  advisers,  had  with- 
held. But,  as  if  God  was  willing  graciously  to  indulge  his  re- 
quest, his  convulsions  subsided,  and  his  senses  became  as  per- 
fectly collected,  as  if  he  were  in  health  ;  and  just  at  this  mo- 
ment, the  curate  arrived  with  the  sacred  elements.  As  the 
curate  entered  the  room,  he  said,  "  Now  you  shall  be  indulged 
in  your  earnest  wish."  This  address  completely  roused  him. 
He  raised  himself  by  his  own  strength  on  his  elbow,  to  receive 
the  communion  with  greater  outward  reverence.  On  being 
questioned  previously  as  to  the  leading  points  of  the  faith,  he 
answered  distinctly  to  each  question,  "  Yes,  sir,  I  believe  this 
with  all  my  heart."  He  then  received  the  viaticuTH  and  ex- 
treme unclion*  with  sentiments  of  the  tenderest  emotion,   and 


*The  primitive  Christians  accompanied  baptism  and  confir- 
mation with  the  anointing  of  oil — that  is,  with  unction.  The 
ceremony  oi extreme  unction  was  also  performed  in  compli- 
ance with  a  precept  of  the  apostle  James.  "  Is  any  sick  among 
you,  let  him  call  for  the  elders  of  the  church :  and  let  them 
pray  over  him,  anointing  him  tcifh  oil  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord :  and  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick,  and  the 
Lord  shall  raise  him  up  :  and  if  he  have  committed  sins  they 
shall  be  forgiven  him."  (James  5  :  14,  15.)  In  Eastern  coun- 
tries, oil  is  extensively  used,  in  consequence  of  its  medicinal 
virtues.  The  good  Samaritan  had  oil  with  him,  when  he  over- 
took the  man  who  had  fallen  among  thieves.  The  disciples, 
whom  Christ  endued  with  miraculous  gifts,  "  cast  out  devils, 
and  anointed  with  oil  many  that  were  sick  and  healed  them." 
(Mark  6:  13.)  Hence  there  can  be  little  doubt,  that  the 
oil,  mentioned  in  the  direction  of  James,  was  intended  as  a  lite- 
ral medicine  for  the  infirmities  of  the  sick.  The  oil  was  de- 
signed to  aid  in  promoting  restoration  to  health, — not  in  pre- 
paring the  souls  of  the  dying  for  their  flight  to  eternity. 

The  Romish  Church,  however,  has  seen  fit  to  exalt  the  ex- 
treme unction  prescribed  by  the  apostle,  to  a  place  among  the 
Seven  Sacraments.  It  is  never  administered  except  to  those 
who  are  afflicted  with  a  mortal  disease,  or  are  bowing  down  to 
the  grave,  beneath  the  decrepitude  of  infirm  old  age.  The  ex- 
treme unction  of  Popery,  th«refore,  is   entirely  ditfercnt  from 


/  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE    PASCAL.  55- 

with  tears.  He  repeated  the  several  responses ;  he  thanked 
the  Curate  for  his  attention  ;  and  when  he  received  his  bles- 
sing, said,  "  may  ray  Grod  never  forsake  me."  Excepting  a 
short  expression  of  thanksgiving,  the^  were  his  last  words. 
Immediately  afterwards,  the  convulsions  again  returned,  and 
continued  till  his  death,  about  twenty  four  hours  after,  with- 
out any  returning  interval  of  consciousness.  He  died  on  the 
19th  of  August,  1662,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  aged  thir- 
ty nine  years,  and  two  months. 

On  examination,  his    stomach  and   liver  were    found    very 
much  diseased,  and  his  intestines  in  a  state  of  mortification. 

Thus  died  a  man  who  was  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments 
that  the  Church  of  Rome  could  ever  boast.  If  nothing  else 
were  wanting,  there  is,  in  the  life  and  death  of  Pascal  ample 
proof,  that  notwithstanding  all  the  wretched  errors  and  crimin- 
al abominations  of  that  apostate  church,  and  the  fearful  wick- 
edness, hypocrisy,  and  pretence  of  a  large  portion  of  its  eccles- 
iastics, there  have  been  some  faithful  men,  sincere  servants  of 
God,  who  have  adhered  to  its  communion^  In  proof  of  this,  it 
is  fashionable  and  popular  now,  for  the  friends  of  Rome,  to 
make  a  parade  of  the  virtues  and  merits  of  Pascal ;  but  then,  it 
must  ever  be  remembered,  that  though  he  remained  in  the 
communfon  of  the  Romish  Church,  and  cordially  submitted  to 
its  discipline,  and  respected  what  he  considered  as  the  iinity  of 
the  Church,  never  was  any  man  a  more  determined  enemy' of 
its  errors.  He  was  hated  as  the  very  scourge  of  its  abomina- 
tions ;  and  there  is  good  reason  for  suspicion,  that  the  man  of 
whom  now  they  make  their  boast,  was  not  permitted  by  them. 


the  ceremony,  which  has  the    seal  of  apostolical   sanction 

When  the  rite  is  administered  to  the  laity,  the  eyes,  the  ears^ 
the  nostrils,  the  mouth,  the  palms  of  the  hands,  the  feet,  and 
the  reins,  are  anointed.  In  regard  to  the  priests,^  the  practice  is 
the  same,  excepting  that  they  are  anointed,  on  the  hack  of  the 
hands, — the  palms  having  been  consecrated  at  the  time  of  their 
induction  into  office >  A.  E. 


56  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL', 

to  continue  the  exercise  of  those  commanding  talents,  which 
would  have  gone  far  towards  working  a  reformation  in  the 
Church  of  France,  at  least,  if  not  elsewhere.  Louis  de  Mon' 
talte  could  never  be  forgiven,  by  that  deep  designing  body  of 
men,  whom  he  had  exposed  ;  and  who  have  always  regarded 
poison  among  the  most  legitimate  modes  of  silencing  an  ad-* 
versary. 

Most  probably  Pascal  fell  the  slow  but  certain   victim  of 
their  enmity.     The  circumstances  of  his  disease  were  very  pe- 
culiar.    They  were  evidently  vmintelligible  to  his   physicians? 
who  had  no  conception  that  he  was  so  near  his  end;    and  the 
extensive  decay  that  had  taken  place  within,  can  scarcely  be 
referred  to  any  one  specific  disease  without  the  symptom  of  itg- 
having  beeil  such,  as  to  render  its  nature  unequivocal.      To 
these  grounds  of  suspicion  are  to  be  added,  the  unquestionable 
sentiments  of  the  School  of  the   Jesuits,  on  this   method  of  re- 
moving an  obnoxious  person,  and  the  many  well  authenticated 
instances  of  murder  in  which  they  are  implicated.      It  would 
be  cruel  indeed  to  charge  the  Jesuits,   as  a   body,   with  more 
than  the  enormous  load  of  guilt  which  lies  upon  their  heads  ; 
but  knowing  as  we  do  historically,  their  dark  machinations, 
their  bitter  and  unmitigable  hate,  and  their  bold  admission  of 
the  principle,  that  the  end  sanctifies  the  means,-^knowing  also 
that  no  individual  ever  did  more  than  Pascal  did  to  sting  them 
to  the  quick,  and  to  bring  all   their  rancor  and  malice  in  its 
deadliest  form  upon  his  head,  it  is  impossible  to  look  at  the   sus- 
picious circumstances  of  his  death-bed,  without  fear  and  indig- 
nation.    This  is,  however,  one  of  those  mysteries  which  must  be 
referred,  with  many  other  scenes  of  horror   and  treachery,   in 
which  Rome  has  borne  a  part,  to  that  day  when  "  the  earth 
shall  disclose  her  blood,  and  shall  no  more  cover  her  slain.*'' 
It  is  impossible,  however,  to  leave  this  subject,  without  re 
calling  to  the  recollection,  that  the  Society  of  the  Jesuits  is 
revived, — that  their  principles  of  morals  and  of  policy  are  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  ever,-^that  they  have  never  disclaimed  a 
single   sentiment  of  all  their  code  of  vice  ;    and  that  at  this 
moment,  they  have  large  educational  establishments,  not  only 
in  Ireland,  but  in  the  very  heart  of  Britain. 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  57 

But  to  return  ;  it  does  seem  strange,  that  Pascal  and  his 
friends  should  now  be  made  the  prominent  subject  of  praise, 
by  the  friends  of  the  Papacy,  when,  in  fact,  they  were  treated 
when  living,  as  its  bitterest  enemies,  and  their  works  proscrib- 
ed in  the  Index  of  prohibited  books.  And  if  the  history  of  the 
MM.  (ie  Port  P«.oyal  were  well  known,  it  would  be  seen  that 
the  Jesuites  never  ceased  from  their  political  intrigues,  till 
they  had  succeeded  in  expelling  this  last  remnant  of  pure  re- 
ligion from  the  Church  of  France.  The  Protestants  were  mur- 
dered by  thousands.  This  need  not  be  wondered  at.  But  in 
proof,  that  the  hostility  of  the  Jesuits  was  not  against  names 
and  sects,  so  much  as  it  was  against  principles,  we  have 
their  inflexible  hostility  and  unrelenting  persecution  of 
these  great  and  holy  men,  who  were  faithful  and  regular 
members  of  their  communion,  but  who  difiered  from  the 
Jesuits,  mainly  in  this,  that  instead  of  making  a  religious 
profession  a  cloak  for  personal  aggrandizements,  forthe  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth,  the  attainment  of  power,  and  the 
secret  coi.'-mand  of  every  sensual  indulgence,  they  were,  in- 
the  mJri^+Q^g^  corrupt  clVurcll  T7ith  which  they  were  consci- 
entiously associated,  faithful,  humble,  self-denied  followers  of 
the  blessed  Jesus.  The  fact  is  a  valuable  one.  It  teaches, 
that  there  may  be  in  remote  corners,  and  in  private  life,  and 
possibly  even  in  the  priesthood,  some  individuals  in  the  com- 
munion of  Rome,  who  are  the  sincere  servants  of  God  ;  yet 
that  wherever  they  are,  they  must,  in  their  conscience,  protest 
against  and  renounce  some  of  the  evils  by  which  they  are 
surrounded  ;  but  that  the  grand  scheme  and  system  of  its  hi- 
erarchy is  a  mere  pretence — a  forcing  upon  men  of  a  human 
system  of  policy  and  power,  garnished  with  every  trick  and 
trapping  that  art  can  invent,  and  blind  and  childish  supersti- 
tion receive,  to  conceal  its  real  deformity,  infidelity,  and 
cool  intentional  iniquity  from  its  deluded  followers.  Through 
all  this  mass  of  mischief,  it  is  just  possible,  that  in  the  mercy 
of  God,  a  man  may  find  his  way  to  the  Saviour,  and  repose  his 
soul  upon  the  simple  promise  of  salvation  through  him  ;  but 
he  who  does  so,  must  first  renounce  those  other  grounds  of  con- 


58  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

fidence  which  the  Romish  Church  puts  far  more  prominently 
forward,  the  merits  of  his  own  works  and  penances, — the  blas- 
phemous indulgences  of  the  Pope  and  his  vicars, — the  value  of 
money  as  a  coin  current  at  the  gate  of  heaven, — the  impious 
adoration  of  a  woman  who  has  herself  entered  heaven  only  as  a 
forgiven  sinner,  and  the  idolatrous  worship,  and  the  fabled  in- 
tercession of  the  whole  Calendar  of  Saints,  many  of  w^hom,  it 
is  to  be  feared,  are  not  in  heaven,  and  never  will  be.  Not  one 
of  these  vital  errors  stained  the  creed  of  Pascal.  His  great 
mind  threw  them  all  off  as  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  sim* 
plicity  of  the  Christian  faith.  But  how  few  must  they  be,  who 
have  strength  for  this  !  How  few  are  likely  to  discern,  through 
these  mists  of  error,  the  simple  object  of  worship  and  confi- 
dence in  the  incarnate  Son  of  God,  or  break  through  all  this 
bondage,  to  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  has  made  us  free  ! 

Pascal  was  a  very  striking  instance  of  the  superiority  of  a 
great  mind,  enlightened  by  the  reading  of  Scripture,  to  the 
errors  and  superstitions  of  his  age  and  country.  Though  he 
was  a  layman,  yet  to  him,  as  a  man  of  learning,  those  Scrip- 
tures were  open,  from  which  the  common  people  are,  by  au- 
thority, excluded  ;  and  the  promised  blessing  of  God  attended 
the  obedient  study  of  His  word.  .  The  progress  of  his  mind 
was  rapid,  in  the  perception  of  religious  truth,  and  in  the  dis- 
crimination of  it  from  the  essential  and  destructive  errors  with 
which  it  had  been  mixed  up,  in  the  avowed  doctrinal  senti- 
ments of  the  Romish  Church.  His  views  were  clear,  perspic- 
uous, and  liberal ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  maintained  a 
chastened,  cMld-like,  and  humble  spirit.  But  there  was  in 
him  that  inflexible  rectitude  of  mind,  by  which  he  saw  almost 
intuitively,  the  prominent  and  essential  features  of  truth  ;  and 
grasping  these  with  gigantic  firmness,  he  was  pre-pared,  in  the 
seraphic  strength  which  they  imparted,  to  combat  for  them 
against  the  world.  Of  course,  the  accuracy  and  keenness 
with  which  he  detected  error  was  equally  remarkable,  and 
only  equalled  by  the  honesty  with  which  he  went  forth  against 
it.  He  knew  his  own  principles  too  well  to  be  inconsistent. 
He  knew  the  power  and  the  promises  of  God  too  well,    to   ba 


MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  59 

acy  other  than  undaunted.  He  was  prepared  equally  to  de- 
fend Divine  truth  against  iufadelily  or  superstition,  or  against 
that  worst,  and  most  frequent  of  all  opponents  in  the  Romish 
Church,  against  him  who  upholds  for  sinister  purposes,  the  su- 
perstitious practices  which,  in  the  secret  of  his  heart,  he  holds 
in  contempt. 

To  this  unbending  rectitude  of  spirit,  Pascal  united  talents, 
peculiarly  adapted  to  make  him  a  powerful  and  efficient  con- 
troversialist. The  readiness  which  brings  all  his  powers  up 
at  the  moment  of  necessity  ;  the  perspicuity  which  facilitates 
the  communication  of  ideas,  and  the  playful  wit  which  adorns 
them  ;  the  habitual  humility  which  is  the  best  safeguard 
against  betraying  himself  by  the  indulgence  of  any  evil  passion 
and  the  simple,  aSectionate  reliance  upon  the  blessing  of  a 
devine  power,  which  makes  a  man  regardless  of  consequences, 
as  long  as  he  does  his  duty, — these  were  the  qualities  which 
fitted  him,  in  an  especial  manner,  to  be  the  champion  of  Scrip- 
tural truth,  in  the  fallen  church  of  the  Papacy.  Had  he  been 
gifted  with  health  and  strength,  he  was  the  man,  of  all  others, 
adapted  to  accomplish  a  general  return  to  the  Christian  prin- 
ciples from  which  that  Church  had  strayed  ;  and  if  views, 
simple  and  Scriptural  as  his,  had  spread  and  become  popular, 
— if  the  bad  parts  of  the  Romish  system  had,  with  others,  as 
with  him,  fallen  into  desuetude  and  contempt ;  and  its  minis- 
ters, instead  of  being  the  fawning  supporters  of  an  unchristian 
tyranny  over  the  consciences  of  men  and  the  sceptres  of  the 
earth,  had  become  like  him,  the  faithful  advocates  of  the  lead-? 
ing  features  of  Sciptural  truth, — such  a  change  would  have 
gone  far  to  satisfy  the  Christian  world.  There  can  be  no 
wish,  on  the  part  of  the  universal  Church  of  Christ,  to  un- 
church the  Church  of  Rome,  or  needlessly  to  interfere  with 
any  of  its  non-essential  points,  which  are  harmless  in  their 
nature,  and  are,  in  fact,  ground  on  which  charity  requires  all 
to  be  neutral ;  and  though,  upon  some  points,  that  Church 
might  still  be  regarded  by  some  as  too  superstitious,  yet  had 
she  openly  and  honestly  maintained  and  preached  the  doctrine 
of  her  Pascals,  and  Arnaulds,    and  Quesnels,  and    Fenelons, 


60  rJEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

the  leading  features  of  quarrel  with  her  on  the  part  of  the 
Protestant  Churches,  would  have  almost  ceased  to  exist. 

But  it  is  not  so.  These  men  must  now  be  looked  on  only  as 
extraordinary  exceptions,  from  the  dominant  evils  of  that  com- 
munity. They  are  not  specimens  of  the  brilliant  attainments 
in  knowledge  and  piety  of  the  disciples  of  the  Papacy.  They 
are  anomalies  to  the  universality  of  error.  They  are  only  a 
few  scattered  lights,  that  have  been  permitted  occasionally  to 
shine  out  amidst  the  surrounding  gloom, — to  make  the  palpable 
thickness  of  the  darkness  that  covers  the  multitude  more  visi- 
ble. They  are  only  proofs  of  what  the  Romish  clergy  should 
have  been,  and  might  have  been,  even  while  they  remained 
conscientiously  in  communion  with  that  church.  But  they 
stand  forth  as  a  sAvlft  witness  against  the  errors,  that  have 
almost  universally  been  sanctioned  and  encouraged  by  its  au- 
thorities ;  and  perhaps,  no  condemnation  more  fearful  will 
issue  in  the  last  day  against  the  anti-christian  errors  of  Piome 
than  that  which  marks,  with  Divine  approbation,  the  solemn 
protestation  of  Pascal  and  his  friends,  and  recognizes  the  mel- 
ancholy fact,  that  sound  Scriptural  truth  was  hunted  down 
and  prosecuted,  and  condemned  in  their  persons,  and  the  true 
religion  of  the  Saviour  once  more  sacrificed  in  them  to  the 
worldly  policy  and  intrigue,  to  the  pride  and  passion  of  the 
Jesuits. 

With  the  death  of  Pascal,  and  the  baniiJhment  of  his  friends, 
all  rational  hope  of  the  reformation  of  the  French  church 
ceased.  "  Darkness  covered  the  people — gross  darkness  that 
might  be  felt."  And  from  that  day  to  this,  successive  woes 
have  fallen,  in  almost  unmingled  bitterness,  on  that  irreligious 
and  careless  people.  What  further  evils  may  yet  assail  them, 
lime  will  unfold  ;  but  even  now,  increasing  darkness  gathers 
round.  The  sad  lessons  of  experienced  suffering,  are  already 
thrown  aside  ;  and  darker  superstition  frown's,  while  she  forges 
for  them  new  and  heavier  chains.  In  the  prospect  of  the 
gloom  that  lowers  upon  that  melancholy  country,  and  in  the 
belief  that  the  torch  of  truth  in  the  hand  of  the  Janseaists,  and 
of  their  great  champion,  might  have  dispelled  it,  the  friends  of 


MEMOIP-  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.  61 

true  religion  may  well  lake  up  the  friendly  lamentation  which 
mourned  over  the  tomb  of  Pascal,  the  loss  sustained  by  his 
country  in  his  untimely  fall,  and  say,  Heu  I  Heu  I  Ctcidit 
Pascalis. 

Pascal  was  buried  at  Paris,  in  the  parish  church  of  St. 
Etienne  du  Mont,  behind  the  main  altar,  near  to,  and  directly 
before  the  pillar  on  the  left  hand,  entering  the  chapel  of  the 
Virgin.  A  Latin  epitaph,  remarkably  quaint  and  original  in  its 
style,  written  by  Aimonius  Proust  de  Chambourg,  Professor  of 
Law  in  the  University  of  Orleans,  was  laid  over  the  grave  ;  but 
as  it  lay  in  a  very  frequented  part  of  the  Church,  it  was  speedily 
effaced ;  and  a  second  inscription,  engraved  on  a  marble 
tablet,  was  affixed  to  the  pillar  immediately  adjoining.  This 
second  inscription,  owing  to  some  repairs  in  the  Church,  was 
afterwards  removed,  and  placed  over  the  side  door  at  the  right 
side  of  the  Church.  During  the  revolution,  it  was  carried 
away  to  the  Museum  of  French  Monuments  ;  but  on  the  21st 
of  April,  1818,  it  was  restored  to  its  original  pillar,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Prefect  of  the  department  of  the  Seine,  a  deputation 
of  the  Academy,  and  many  relations  of  the  deceased. 


Nobiiissimi  Scutarii  Blasii  Pascalis  Tumulus. 

D.  O.  M. 

BLASIUS  PASCALIS  SCUT  A.RIUS   NOBILIS  HIC 

JACET. 

Pietas  si  non  moritur,  aeternum  vivet ; 

Vir  conjugii  nescius. 

Religione  sanctus,  Virtute  clarus, 

Doctrina  Celebris, 

Ingenio  acutus. 

Sanguine  et  animo  pariter  illustris  ; 

Doctus,  non  Doctor, 

-^quitatis  amator, 

Veritatis  defensor. 

Virgin um  ultor, 

Christianae  Moralis  Corruptorum  acerrimus  hostls. 

Hunc  Rhetores  amant  facundum, 

Hunc  Scriptores  norunt  elegantem, 

Hunc  Mathematici  stupent  profundum, 

Hunc  Philosophiquaerunt  Sapientem, 

Hunc  Doctores  laudant  Theologum, 


6?  MEMOIR  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL. 

Hunc  Pii  venerantur  austerum. 

Hunc  omnes  mirantur,  omnibus   ignotum, 

Omnibus  licet  notum. 

Quid  plura?   Viator,  quern  perdidimus 

PASCALEM, 

Is  LuDovicus  erat  Mojvtaltius. 

Heu! 

Satis  dixi,  urgent  lachrymas, 

Sileo. 

Ei  qui  bene  precaberis,  bene  tibi  eveniat, 

Et  vivo  et  mortuo. 

Vixit.  An.  39.  m.  2.     Obiit  an.  rep.  Sal.  1662. 

14  Kal.  Sept. 

S2JET0  nASKAAlO^. 

<i>Erj  <PEYI   HEN e 02   02 ON! 

Cecidit  Pascalis. 

Heu  !   Heu  !    qualis  luctus  I 

Posuit  A.  P.  D.  C.  mgerens  Aurelian.  Canonista. 


Pro  columna  superiori, 
Sub  tumulo  marmoreo. 


.lacet  Blasius  Pascal,  Claromontanus,  Stephani  Pascal  in  Su- 
premai  apud  Arvernos  Subsidiorum  Curi^  Praesidis  filius,  post 
aliquot  annos  in  severiori  secessu  et  divinse  legis  meditatione 
transactos,  feliciter  et  religiose  in  pace  Christi,  vita  functus 
anno  1662  setatis  39,  die  19  Augusti.  Optasset  ille  quidem 
prae  paupertatis  et  humilitatis  studio,  etiam  his  sepulchri  hon- 
oribus  carere,  mortuusque  etiamnum  latere,  qui  vivus  semper 
latere  voluerat.  Verum  ejus  hac  in  parte  votis  cum  cedere 
non  posset  Florinus  Perier  in  eadem  subsidiorum  Curia  Con- 
silarius,  ac  Gilbertse  Pascal,  Blasii  Pascal  sororis,  conjux 
amantissimus,  banc  tabulam  posuit,  qua  et  suam  in  ilium 
pietatem  significaret,  et  Christianos  ad  Christiana  precum 
officia  sibi  et  defuncto  profutura  cohortaretur. 


THOUGHTS  ON  RELIGION. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 


When  man  considers  himself,  the  first  thing  that 
claims  his  notice  is  his  body  ;  that  is,  a  certain  portion 
of  matter  evidently  appertaining  to  himself.  But  if  he 
would  know  what  this  is,  he  must  compare  himself 
wath  all  that  is  superior  or  inferior  to  him ;  and  thus 
he  will  ascertain  his  own  just  limits. 

But  he  must  not  rest  contented  with  the  examina- 
tion of  the  things  around  him.  Let  him  contemplate 
universal  nature  in  all  the  height  and  fulness  of  its 
majesty.  Let  him  consider  that  glorious  luminary, 
hung  as  an  eternal  lamp,  to  enlighten  the  universe. — 
Let  him  consider  that  this  earth  is  a  mere  point,  com- 
pared with  the  vast  circuit  which  that  bright  orb  des- 
cribes.* Let  him  learn  with  wonder,  that  this  wide 
orbit  itself  is  but  a  speck  compared  with  the  course  of 
the  stars,  which  roll  in  the  firmament  of  heaven. — 
And  if  here  our  sight  is  limited,  let  the  imagination 
take  up  the  inquiry  and  venture  further.  It  will  wea- 
ry with  conceiving,  far  sooner  than  nature  in  supply- 
ing food  for  thought.  All  that  we  see  of  the  universe 
is  but  an  almost  imperceptible  spot  on  the  ample  bo- 
som of  nature.     No  conception  even   approaches    the 


*  The  Copernican  system  was  not  thea   generally   receiyed 
by  the  members  of  the  Romish  Church. 


C4  ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

limits  of  its  space.  Let  us  labor  as  we  will  with  our 
conceptions,  v/e  bring  forth  mere  atoms,  compared  with 
the  immensit}^  of  that  which  reallj  is.  It  is  an  infin- 
ite sphere,  Avhose  centre  is  every  where,  and  whose 
circumlerence  is  no  where.  And,  in  fact,  one  of  the 
most  powerful  sensible  impressions  ofthe  omnipotence 
of  God  is,  that  our  imagination  is   lost  in  this  thought. 

Thet)  let  man  return  to  himself,  and  consider  what 
he  is,  compared  with  all  else  that  is.  Let  him  con- 
sider himself  as  a  wanderer  in  this  remote  corner  of 
nature  ;  and  then  from  wliat  he  sees  of  this  narrow  pri- 
son in  which  he  lies — this  visible  world ;  let  him 
learn  to  estimate  rightly  the  earth,  its  kingdoms,  its 
cities,  himself,  and  his  own  real  value.  What  is  man 
in  this  intinity  ?     Who  can  comprehend  him  ? 

But  to  shew  him  another  prodigy  equally  astonish- 
ing, let  him  search  among  the  minutest  objects  around 
him.  Let  a  mite,  for  instance,  exhibit  to  him,  in  the 
exceeding  smallness  of  its  frame,  portions  yet  incom- 
parably smaller  ;  limbs  well  articulated  :  veins  in  those 
limbs  :  blood  in  those  veins;  humors  in  that  blood  ; — 
globules  in  that  humor;  and  gases  in  those  globules; 
— and  then  dividing  again  their  smallest  objects,  let 
him  exhaust  the  powers  of  his  conception,  and  then 
let  the  lowest  particle  that  he  can  imagine  become  the 
subject  of  our  discourse.  He  thinks,  perhaps,  that 
this  is  the  minutest  atom  of  nature,  but  1  will  open  to 
him,  within  it,  a  new  and  fathomless  abyss.  I  can  ex- 
hibit to  him  yet,  not  only  the  visible  universe,  but 
even  all  tliat  he  is  capable  ofconceiving  of  the  immen- 
sity of  nature,  embosomed  in  this  imperceptible  atom. 
Let  him  see  there  an  infinity  of  worlds,  each  of  which 
has  its  tirmimeht,  its  planets,  its  earth  ;  bearing  the 
same  ])roportion  to  the  other  parts  as  in  the  visible 
world  :  and  in  this  eaith,  animals,  and  even  mites  again, 
in  which  he  shall  trace  the  same  discoveries  which 
ihe  first  mites  yielded  ;  and  then  again  the  same  in 
others  without  end  and  without  repose.  He  is  lost  in 
these  wonders,  equally  astonishing  in  their  minuteness, 
as  the  former  by  their  extent.     And    who   would    not 


ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE.  65 

Tvonder  to  think  that  this  body  which  so  lately  was  not 
perceptible  in  that  universe,  which  universe  was  itself 
an  imperceptible  spot  on  the  bosom  of  infinity,  should 
now  appear  a  colossus,  a  world,  a  universe,  compared 
with  that  ultimate  atom  of  minuteness  to  which  we  can- 
not arrive. 

He  who  thus  thinks   of  himself,  will   doubtless  be 
alarmed  to  see  himself,  as  it  were,  su^p^aded^  in   the  ^ 
mass  of  matter  that  is   aJlotted_to  him,  betweerTTbese 
two'"abysses  of  infinity    ancTnothin^^^ness,  and  egually 
femotejrom  boUi.     He  will  tremble  at  the  perception 
of  these  wonders";  and  I  would  think  that  his  curiosity 
changing  into  reverence,  he  would  be  more  disposed 
to  contemplate  them  in    silence,    than    to   scrutinize 
them  with  presumption.      For  what   after  all  is  man,_ 
in  nature  ?    A  nothing  compared  with  infinity, — a  uni- 
Verse  c"ompared  with  nothing,^^  mean   between  all 
and  nothing.      He  is  infinitely  distant  from   both  ex- 
tremes.    His  being  is  not  less  remote  from  the  nothing, 
out  of  which  he  was  formed,  than  from  the  infinity  in 
whicFhe  is  lost.     ^ 

His  jnjnd  holds  the  same  rank  iri^the  order^  of  intel- 
ligent beings,  as  his  body  in  mate^rial  nature  ;  and  all 
That  It  can  do,  is  to  discern  somewhat  of  the  middle  of 
things,  ill  an  endless  despair  of  ever  knowing  their 
beginning  or  their  end.  Al[  things  are  called_out  o_f- 
nothing  and  card^  onvvar<OoZJ5^iy^-  Who  can 
follow  in  this  endless  race?  The  Author  ofjhesejvqn- 
ders  cornprehends  them.     No  other' can.  ~ 

"  This  state  which   occupies  the   mean  between  two 
extremes,  s'heiy.s  itself  in  all  our^powers, 

Our^enses_  will  not  admit  any  thTrig'extreme.  Too 
much  noise  confuses  us,  too  much  iiglir"3azzles,  too 
great  distance  or  nearness  prevents  vision,  too  great 
prolixity  or  brevity  weakens  an  argument,  too  much 
pleasure  gives  pain,  too  much  accordance  annoys.  We 
relish  neither  extreme  heat,  nor  extreme  cold.  All 
excessive  qualities  are  injurious  to  us,  and  not  percep- 
tible. We  do  not  feel  them,  we  suffer  them.  Extreme 
5* 


66  ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

youth  and  extreme  age  alike  enfeeble  the  mind;  too 
much  or  too  little  nourishment  weakens  its  operations; 
by  too  much  or  too  little  instruction  il  becomes  stupid. 
Extreme  things  are  not  ours,  any  more  than  if  they 
were  not:  we  are  not  made  for  them.  Either  they 
escape  iis,  or  we  them. 

This  is  our  real  condition.  It  is  this  which  confines 
our  know  ledgewj.th  in_cerUii  n  limits  that  we  cannofpais^ 
being-  equally  incapable  of  universal  knowIeBgeT^  of 
total  isrnorance  ;  we  are  placed  in  avast  medium  :  ever 


floatin^uncertainly  betvveen_i^noi\mc£j^^  : 

iTwe  attempITo  "goTarther  onward,  our  oljJecTvvavers 
and  eludes  our  grasp — it  retires  and  tlies  with  an  eternal 
flight,  and  nothing  can  stay  its  course. 

This  is  our  natural  condition  ;  yet  itia  ever  opposed 
to  our  inclination.  V/e  burn  with  desire  to  sound  the 
utmost  depth,  and  to  raise  a  fabric  that  shall  reach 
infinity.  But  all  we  build  up,  crumbles;  and  the  earth 
opens  in  a  fathomless  ab3'S3  beneatli  our  deepest  found- 
ation. 

2.  I  can  readily  conceive  of  a  man  without  hands  or 
feet;  and  I  could  conceive  of  him  without  a  head,  if 
experience  had  not  taught  me  that  by  this  he  thinks. 
Thougjit  then  is  the^ssence  of  manj  and  without  this 
we  cannot  conceive^of  him. 

Whatisitinus  which  feels  pleasure?  Is  it  the 
hand  ?  the  arm  ?  the  flesh  ?  the  blood  ?  It  must  be 
something  immaterial. 

3.  Man  is  so  great,  that  his  greatness  appears  even 
in  the  consciousness  of  his  misery.  A  tree  does  not 
know  itself  to  be  miserable.  It  is  true  that  it  is  mise- 
ry indeed  to  know  one's  self  to  be  miserable  ;  but 
then  it  is  greatness  also.  In  this  way,  all  man's  mise- 
ries go  to  prove  his  greatness.  They  are  the  mise- 
ries of  a  mighty  potentate — of  a  dethroned  monarch. 

4  What  man  is  unhappy  because  he  is  not  a  king, 
except  a  king  dethroned.  Was  Paulus  ^Emilius  con- 
sidered miserable  that  he  was  no  longer  consul  ?  On 
the  contrary  every  one  thought  that  he  was  happy    iu 


ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE.  67 

having'  it  over,  for  it  vvns  not  his  condition  to  be  al- 
ways consul.  But  Perseus,  whose  permanent  state 
should  have  been  royalty,  was  considered  to  be  so 
wretched  in  being  no  longer  a  king-,  that  men  won- 
dered how  he  could  endure  life.  Who  complains  of 
having  only  one  mouth  ?  Who  would  not  complain  of 
having  but  one  eye  ?  No  man  mourns  that  he  has  not 
three  eyes  :  yet  each  would  sorrow  deeply  if  he  had 
but  one. 

5.  We  have  so  exalted  a  notion  of  the  human  soul, 
that  we  cannot  bear  to  be  despised  by  it,  or  even  not 
to  be  esteemed  by  it.  Man,  in  fact,  places  all  his 
happiness  in  this  esteem. 

If  on  the  one  hand  this  false  glory  that  men  seek 
after  is  a  mark  of  their  mlserj^  and  degradation,  it  is 
on  the  other  a  proof  of  their  excellence.  For  what- 
ever possessions  a  man  has  on  the  earlh,  and  whatev- 
er health  or  comfort  he  enjoys,  be  is  not  satisiied 
without  the  esteem  of  his  fellow  men.  He  rates  so 
highly  the  human  mind,  that  whatever  be  his  worldly 
advantages,  ifhe  does  not  stand,  as  well  also  in  man's 
estimation,  he  counts  himself  wretched.  That  posi- 
tion is. the  loveliest  spot  in  the  world.  Nothing  can 
eradicate  the  desire  for  it.  And  this  quality  is  the 
most  indelible  in  the  human  heart;  so  that  even  those 
who  most  thoroughly  despise  men,  and  consider  them 
equal  with  the  brutes,  still  wish  to  be  admired  by  them; 
their  feelings  contradict  their  principles.  Their  na-  / 
ture  which  is  stronger  than  their  reasonings,  convinc- 
es them  more  forcibly  of  the  greatness  of  man,  than 
their  reason  can  do  of  his  vileness. 

6.  Man  is  hut  a  reed j  and  the  weakest  in  nature  ; 
bu^  then  lie  is  a  reed  that  thinks.  It  does  not  need 
the  universe  to~cr uihTiim^:  a  Kre^ath  of  air,  a  drop  of 
water  will  kill  him.  But  even  if  the  material  universe 
should  overwhelm  him,  man  would  be  more  noble 
than  that  which  destroys  him;  because  he  knows  that 
he  dies,  while  the  universe  knows  nothing  of  the  ad= 
vantage  which  it  obtains  over  him. 

Our  true  dignity,  then,  consists  in    thought.      From 


68  '  ON  SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

thence  we  must  derive  our  elevation,  not  from   space 
or  duration.     Let  us  endeavor    then    to    think    welLl., 
this  is  theprinci|3]e_of  morals. 

T.Tt  isllangerous  to  shew  man  unreservedly  how 
nearly  he  resembles  the  brute  creation,  without  point- 
ing out,  at  the  same  time,  his  greatness.  It  is  danger- 
ous also  to  exhibit  his  greatness  exclusively,  without 
bis  degradation.  It  is  yet  more  dangerous  to  leave 
him  ignorant  of  both,  but  it  is  highly  profitable  to 
teach  him  both  together. 

8.  Let  man  then  rightly  estimate  himself — let  him 
love  himself,  for  he  has  a  nature  capable  of  good  ;  but 
yet  let  him  not  love  the  evils  which  he  finds  there. 
Let  him  despise  himself,  because  this  capacity  is  with- 
out an  object ;  but  let  him  not  on  that  account  despise 
the  natural  capacity  itself  Let  him  both  love  and 
hate  himself  There  is  in  him  the  power  of  discern- 
ing truth,  and  of  being  happy,  but  he  is  not  in  posses- 
sion of  certain  and  satisfying  truth.  I  would  lead  man 
to  desire  to  find  truth,  to  sit  loose  to  his  passions,  and 
to  be  ready  to  follow  truth  wherever  he  may  find  it ; 
and  knowing  how  sadly  his  powers  are  clouded  by  his 
passions,  I  would  wish  him  to  hate  in  himself  that 
concupiscence  which  overrules  his  judgment,  that 
henceforth  it  may  not  blind  him  in  making  his  choice, 
nor  impede  his  progress  when  he  has  chosen. 

9.  1  blame  with  equal  severity  those  who  elevat(? 
man,  and  those  who  depress  him,  and  those  who  think 
it  right  merely  to  divert  him.  I  can  only  approve  of 
those  who  s^e^J^in  tears  for  hap])iiiegE. 

The^toics  say,  turn  m  upon  yourselves,  and  there 
you  will  find  your  repose.  This  however  is  not  true. 
Others  say,  go  forth  from  yourselves,  and  seek  for 
happiness  in  diversion.  This  is  not  true  either. — 
Disease  will  come  Alas  !  happiness  is  neither  with^:_ 
in  us,^  nor  without  us.  It  is  fn  the  union^or~ourselve3 
with  God. 

10.  There  are  two  ways  of  regarding  human  nature, 
one  according  to  the  end  of  man,  and  then  it  is  grand 
mid   incomprehensible ;  the   other    according  to   his 


THE  VANITY   OF  MAN.  69 

habits^as  we  judge  of  the  nature  of  a  horse  or  dog, 
by  thehabit  of  observing  his  going,  and  then  man  is 
abjectand_vi]_e.  It  is  owing  to  these  two  dilTe'rent 
ways  that  phifosophers  judge  so  differently,  and  dis- 
pute so  keenly ;  ibr  one  denies  what  the  other  assumes. 
One  says,  man  is  not  born  for  this  noble  end  ;  for  all 
his  actions  are  opposed  to  it.  The  other  says,  when 
he  commits  such  base  and  groveling  actions,  he  wan- 
ders from  the  end  of  his  being.  Instinct  and  experi- 
ence, taken  together,  shew  to  man  the  whole  of  what 
he  is. 

11.  I  feel  that  I  might  not  have  been  ;  for  when  I 
speak  of  myself,  1  mean  my  thinking  being ;  and  I, 
who  think,  would  not  have  been,  if  my  mother  had 
been  killed  before  I  was  quickened.  Then  1  am  not 
a  necessary  being,  nor  am  I  eternal,  nor  infinite  ;  but 
I  see  clearly  that  there  is  in  nature,  a  being  who  is 
necessary,  eternal,  infinite. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN^^ 

We  are  not  satisfied  with  the  lifeJhaLwe  have  in_ 
ourselves — in  our  own  peculiar  being.  We  vv^ish  to 
Tlye  also  an  ideal  life  in_^ejnin_^djof^ others  ;  '"and^Tor 
this  purpose,  we  constrain  ourselves  to  put  on  appear- 
ances. We  labour  incessantly  to_adorn_and  sustain 
this  ideal  beingywhile  we  neglect  the  real  one.  And 
if  we  possess  any  degree  of  equanimit}^,  generosity,  or 
fidelity,  we  strive  to  make  it  known,  that  we  may 
clothe  with  these  virtues  that  being  of  the  imagina- 
tion. ISTa}'',  we  would  even  cast  off  these  virtues  in 
reality,  to  secure  them  in  the  opinion  of  others  ;  and 
willingly  be  cowards,  to  acquire  the  reputation  of 
courage.  What  a  proof  of  the  emptiness  of  our  real 
being,  that  we  are  not  satisfie-d  with  the  one  v/ithout 
the  other,  and  that  we    often  sacrifice  the  one  to    the 


70  THE  VANITY  OF  MAN. 

other ;  for  he  is  counted  infamous  who  would  not  die 
to  save  his  reputation. 

Glory  is  so  enchanting,  that  we  love   whatever   we 

associate  it  with,  even  though  it  be  jdeathi. 

^  2.  Pride  countervails  all  our^iniserigs.,  for  it  either 
hides  them,  or  iflt  discToieF  them,  it  boasts  of  ac- 
knowledging them.  Pride  has  so  thoroughly  got  pos- 
session of  us,  even  in  the  midst  of  our  miseries  and 
oar  foults,  that  we  are  prepared  to  sacrifice  life  with 
joy,  if  it  may  but  be  talked  of. 

3.  Vanity  is  so  rooted  in  the  heart  of  man,  that  the 
lowest  drudge  of  the  camp,  the  street,  or  the  kitchen, 
must  have  his  boast  and  his  admirers.  It  is  the  same 
with  the  philosophers.  Those  who  write  to  gain 
fame,  would  have  the  reputation  of  having  written 
well;  and  those  who  read  it,  would  have  the  reputa- 
tion of  having  read  it ;  and  I  who  am  writing  this, 
feel  probably  the  same  wish,  and  they  who  read  this, 
feel  it  also. 

4.  Notwithstanding  the  sight  of  all  those  miseries 
which  vvring  us,  and  threaten  our  destruction,  we  have 
still  an  instinct  which  we  cannot  repress,  which  ele- 
vates us  above  our  sorrows. 

5.  We  are  so  presumptuous  that  we  wish  to  be 
known  to  all  the  world,  even  to  those  that  come  after 
us;  and  we  are  so  vain,  that  the  esteem  of  five  or  six 
persons  immediatelj^  around  us,  is    enough  to  seduce 

and  satisfy  us. 

6.,  Curiosity  is  but  vanity :  too  frequently  we  only 
wish  to  know  more,  that  we  may  talk  of  it.  No  man 
would  venture  to  see,  if  he  were  never  to  speak  about 
what  he  sees — for  the  mere  pleasure  of  seeing,  with- 
out ever  speaking  of  it  to  others. 

7.  We  do  not  care  to  get  a  name  in  the  towns 
through  which  we  are  travelling  :  but  if  we  come  to 
sojourn  there  a  short  time,  we  soon  become  desirous 
of  it.  And  what  time  is  sufficient  for  this?  a  period 
proportioned  to  our  vain  and  pitiful  duration. 

8.  The  nature  of  seK-love  and  of  human  egotism,  is 
to  love  sell    only,    and   to   consult    only    sell-interest. 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN.  7  J 

But  to  what  a  state  is  man  reduced  !  He  cannot  pre- 
vent this  object  of  his  love  from  being-  full  of  defects 
and  miseries.  He  wishes  to  be  great,  bin  he  sees  him- 
self little:  he  wishes  to  be  happy,  but  he  sees  him- 
self miserable  ;  he  wishes  to  be  perfect,  but  he  sees 
that  he  is  full  of  imperfections  ;  he  wishes  to  be  the 
object  of  men's  love  and  esteem,  and  he  sees  that  his 
errors  deserve  their  hatred  and  contempt.  This  state 
of  disappointment  generates  in  him  the  most  wretched 
and  criminal  passion  that  can  be  imag^ined:  he  con- 
ceives a  deadly  hatred  against  that  truth  which  re- 
proves him,  and  convinces  him  of  his  faults  :  he  desires 
to  destroy  it,  and  unable  actually  to  destroy  it  in  its 
essential  nature,  he  blots  it  out  as  far  as  possible  from 
his  own  knowledge  and  from  that  of  others  :  that  is,  he 
does  his  utmost  to  conceal  his  faults  both  from  others 
and  from  himself,  and  will  not  suffer  others  to  exhibit 
them  to  him,  or  to  examine  them  themselves. 

It  is  surely  an  evil  to  be  full  of  faults  ;  but  it  is  a 
far  greater  evil  to  be  unwilling  to  know  them,  since 
that  is  to  add  to  them  the  guilt  of  a  voluntary  delusion. 
We  do  not  like  others  to  deceive  us;  we  do  not  think 
it  right  that  they  should  wish  to  be  esteemed  by  us 
beyond  their  deserts  :  it  is  not  right  then  that  we 
should  deceive  them,  and  that  we  should  wish  them  to 
esteem  us  more  than  we  deserve. 

So  that  when  they  discover  in  us  nothing  but  the 
imperfections  and  vices  which  we  really  possess,  it  is 
evident  that  in  this  they  do  us  no  wrong,  because  they 
are  not  the  cause  of  those  errors  ;  and  that  they  even 
do  us  good,  since  they  aid  us  in  avoiding  a  real  evil — 
the  ignorance  of  these  our  imperfections.  We  should 
not  be  indignant  that  they  discover  these  errors  if  they 
really  exist,  nor  that  they  should  know  us  to  be  what 
we  really  are,  and  despise  us,  if  we  really  are  despic- 
able. 

These  are  the  thoughts  that  would  rise  spontane- 
ously in  a  heart  full  of  equity  and  justice  :  what  then 
shall  we  say  of  our  own,  when  we  see  its  disposition  to 
be  just  the  reverse.     For  is    it  not  true   that  we    hate 


72  THE  VANITY   OF  MAN. 

the  truth  and  those  who  tell  it  us;  and  that  we  love 
men  to  be  deceived  in  our  favor,  and  wish  to  be  esti- 
mated by  them  very  differently  from  what  we  really 
are? 

There  are  different  degrees  of  this  aversion  for 
truth ;  but  we  may  affirm  that  in  some  degree  it  ex- 
ists in  every  one,  because  it  is  inseparable  from  self- 
love.  It  is  this  vile  sensitiveness  to  applause,  which 
compels  those  whose  duty  it  is  to  reprove  another,  to 
soften  the  severity  of  the  shock,  by  so  many  circuitous 
and  alleviating  expressions.  They  must  appear  to 
attenuate  the  fault ;  they  must  seem  to  excuse  what 
they  mean  to  reprove  ;  they  must  mix  with  the  cor- 
rection the  language  of  praise,  and  the  assurances  of 
affection  and  esteem.  Yet  still  this  pill  is  always  bit- 
ter to  self-love  :  we  take  as  little  of  it  as  we  can,  al- 
ways with  disgust,  and  often  with  a  secret  grudge 
against  those  who  presume  to  administer  it. 

Hence  it  is  that  those  who  have  an}^  interest  in  se- 
curing our  regard,  shrink  from  the  performance  of  an 
office  which  they  know  to  be  disagreeable  to  us;  they 
treat  us  as  we  wish  to  be  treated  ;  we  hate  the  truth, 
and  they  conceal  it ;  we  wish  to  be  flattered,  and  they  1 
flatter;  we  love  to  be  deceived,  and  they  deceive  us. 
And  hence  it  arises  that  each  step  oi  good  fortune 
by  which  we  are  elevated  in  the  world,  removes  us 
farther  from  truth  ;  because  menfear  to  annoy  others, 
just  in  proportion  as  their  good  will  is  likely  to  be 
useful,  or  their  dislike  dangerous.  A  prince  shall  be 
the  talk  of  all  Europe,  and  he  onl}'^  know  it  not.  1  do 
not  wonder  at  this.  To  speak  the  truth  is  useful  to 
him  to  whom  it  is  spjjgenT^buf^aHly  the  reverse  to  him 
who" speaks  it,  fdi-  it  makes  him  hated.  Now  they 
wFo  itve  with  ])nnces,  love  their  own  interests  better 
than  that  of  him  with  whom  they  serve,  and  do  not 
therefore  care  to  seek  his  benetit  by  telling  him  the 
truth  to  their  own  injury.  This  evil  is  doubtless 
more  serious  and  more  common,  in  cases  of  common 
rank  and  fortune,  but  the  very  lowest  are  not  free  from 
it;  because  there  is  always  some  beneiit  to  be    obtain- 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN.  73 

ed  by  means  of  man's  esteem.  So  that  human  life  is 
a  perpetual  delusion, — nothing  goes  on  but  mutual 
flattery  and  mutuafdeceit :  no  one  speaks  of  us  in  our 
presence,  as  he  does  in  our  absence.  The  degree  of 
union  that  there  is  among  men,  is  founded  on  this 
mutual  deception  ;  and  few  friendships  would  subsist, 
if  each  one  knew  what  his  friend  says  of  him  when  he 
is  not  present,  although  at  the  time  he  speaks  sincerely 
and  without  prejudice. 

Man,  then,  is  nothing:  but  disguise,  falsehood,  and_ll3:=- 
pocrisj^,  both  towards  himself  and  others.  He  does_ 
not  Vvish  them  to  tell  him  the  truth, — he  will  not  tell 
it  to  them :  and  all  these  dispositions,  s'o  far  removed" 
trom  justice  and  sound  reason,  have  their  root  natural^ 
ly  in  his  hearty 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN. 


That  which  astonishes  me  most  is,  that  no  man  is 
astonished  at  his  own  weakness.  Men  act  seriously ; 
and  each  one  follows  his  occupation,  not  because  it  is 
actually  good  to  I'oliow  it,  since  that  is    the    cuslomj 

but  as  if  each  one  knew  pre_cisely  where  tn   find ma- 

son  and  truth.  Each  one  however  finds  himself  de- 
ceived j;e£eatedly,  and  yjet  by  a  foolish  humility 
thinks  that  the  failure  is  in  his  own  conduct,  and  pot 
in  the  facility  of  discerning  the  truth^  of'  which  he 
continually  boasts.  It  is  well  that  there  are  so  many 
of  these  persons  in  the  world,  since  thej^  serve  to  show 
that  man  is  capable  of  holding  the  most  extravagant 
opinions;  inasmuch  as  he  can  believe  that  he  is  not 
naturally  and  inevitably  in  a  state  of  moral  weakness; 
but  that  on  the  contrary,  he  has  naturally  wisdom  ade- 
quate to  his  circumstances.     > 

2.  The  weakness  of  human  reason  appears  more 
evidently  in  those  who  know  it  not,  than  in  those  who 
know  it.  6 


74  THR  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN. 

He  who  is  too  young  will  not  judge  wisely ;  no 
more  will  he  that  is  too  old.  Ifwe  think  too  little  or 
too  much  on  a  subject,  we  are  equally  bewildered,  and 
cannot  discover  truth.  If  a  man  reviews  his  work 
directly  after  he  has  done  it,  he  is  pre-occupied  by 
the  lively  impression  of  it;  if  he  reviews  it  a  long 
time  after,  he  can  scarcely  get  into  the  spirit  of  it 
again. 

There  is  but  one  indivisible  point  from  which  we 
should  look  at  a  picture  ;  all  others  are  too  near,  too 
distant,  too  high,  or  too  low.  Perspective  fixes  this 
point  precisely  in  the  art  of  painting;  but  who  shall 
fix  it  in  regard  to  truth  and  morals? 

3.  That  queen  of  error,  whom  we  call  fancy  and 
opinion,  is  the  more  deceitful  because  she  doeenot  de- 
ceive always.  She  would  "be"~ihe  irnalTible  rule  oT 
truth  if  she  were  the  infallible  rule  of  falsehood:  but 
being  only  most  frequently  in  error,  she  gives  no  evi- 
dence of  her  real  quality,  for  she  marks  with  the  same 
character  both  that  which  is  true  and  that  which  is 
false. 

This  haught}^  power,  the  enemy  of  reason,  and 
whose  delight  is  to  keep  reason  in  subjection,  in  order 
to  shevv^  what  influence  she  has  in  all  things,  has  estab- 
lished in  man  a  second  nature.  She  has  her  happy 
.ind  her  unhappy,  her  sick  and  her  healthy,  her  rich 
and  her  poor,  her  fools  and  her  sages  ;  and  nothing  is 
more  distressing  than  to  see  that  she  fills  her  guests 
with  a  jfar  more  ample  satisfaction  than  reason  gives  ; 
since  those  who  think  themselves  wise  have  a  delight 
in  themselves,  far  beyond  that  in  which  the  really  pru- 
dent dare  to  indulge.  They  treat  other  men  imperi- 
ously ;  they  dispute  with  fierceness  and  assurance, — 
whilst  others  do  so  with  fear  and  caution  ;  and  this 
satisfied  air  often  gives  them  advantage  in  the  opinion 
of  the  hearers  :  so'much  do  the  imaginary  wise  find 
favor  among  judges  of  the  same  kind.  Opinion  can- 
not  make  fools  wise,  but  ^e  makes  them  content,  to 
llie  great  disparagement  of  reason,  who  can  only  make 
her  friends  wretched.  The  one  covers  ^^-^^  votaries 
with  glory,  the  other  with  shame. 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN.  75 

Who  confers  reputation  ?  who  gives  respect  and  ven- 
eration to  persons,  to  books,  to  great  men  ?  Who  but 
opinion?  How  utterly  insufficient  are  ail  the  riches 
of  the  world  without  her  approbation  ! 

jOpjnion  settles  every  thing.  She  constitutes  beau- 
ty, justice,  happiness,  which  is  the  whole  of  this 
world.  I  would  like  much  to  see  that  Italian  work,  of 
w^hich  I  have  only  heard  the  title.  It  is  called  "  Opin- 
ion, the  Queen  of  the  World."  It  is  worth  many 
other  books.  I  subscribe  to  it  without  knowing  it,  er- 
ror excepted. 

4.  The  most  important  concern  in  life,  is  the  choice 
of  an  occupation  ;  yet  chance  seems  to  decide  it.  Cus- 
tom makes  masons,  soldiers,  bricklayers,  &;c.  They 
say,  "  That's  a  capital  workman,"  or  when  speakino- 
of  soldiers, ''  What  fools  those  men  are  :"  others  again 
say,  ''  There  is  nothing  noble  but  war,  all  men  but 
soldiers  are  contemptible."  And  according  as  men, 
during  their  childhood,  have  heard  those  several  oc- 
cupations praised  and  others  vilified,  they  make  their 
choice  ;  for  naturally  we  love  wisdom  and  hate  folly. 
It  is  these  words  that  influence  us ;  we  err  only  in  the 
application  of  them  ;  and  the  force  of  custom  is  such, 
that  in  some  countries,  the  whole  population  are  ma- 
sons ;  in  others,  soldiers.  Now  we  do  not  conceive 
that  nature  is  so  uniform.  It  is  custom  which  does  this, 
and  carries  nature  with  it.  There  are  cases  however 
in  which  nature  prevails,  and  binds  man  to  his  specific 
object,  in  defiance  of  custom,  whether  bad  or  good. 

^'  We. think  veryjjttleof time  present;  we  antici- 
pate the  future,  as  being  too  slow,  and  with  a  view  to 
hasten  it  onward  ;  we  recall  the  past  to  stay  it  as  too 
swiftly  gone.  We  are  so  thoughtless,  that  we  thus 
wander  through  The  hours  which  are  not  here,  regard- 
less only  of  the  moment  that  is  actually  our  own  : — 
so  vain  ,  that  we  dream  of  the  times  which  are  not, 
and  suffer  that  only  which  does  exist,  to  escape  us  with- 
out a  thought.  This  is  because,  generally,  the  pres- 
ent gives  us  pain  ;  we  hide  it  from  our  sight,  it  afflicts 
us;  and  even  if  it  ministers  pleasure,  we  grieve  to  see 


76  THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN. 

it  flying  :  and  hence  we  bring-  up  the  future  to  sustaift 
it,  and  speculate  on  doing  things  which  are  not  in  our 
power,  at  a  time  which  we  can  have  no  assurance 
that  we  shall  ever  see. 

Let  any  man  examine  his  thoughts  ;  he  will  find 
them  ever  occupied  with  the  past  or  the  future.  We 
scarcely  think  at  all  of  the  present;  or  if  we  do,  it  is 
only  to  borrow  the  light  which  it  gives,  for  regulating 
the  future.  The  present  is  never  our  object ;  the 
past  and  the  present  we  use  as  means;  the  future  only 
is  our  object.  Thus  in  fact  we  never  live,  we 
only  hope  to  live ;  and  thus  ever  doing  nothing,  but 
preparing  to  be  happy,  it  is  certain  that  we  never  shall 
be  so,  unless  we  seek  a  higher  felicity  than  this  short 
life  can  yield. 

6.  Our  imagination  so  magnifies  this  present  exis- 
tence, by  the  power  of  continual  reflection  on  it ; 
and  so  attenuates  eternity,  b}^  not  thinking  of  it  at  all, 
that  we  reduce  an  eternity  to  nothingness,  and  expand 
a  mere  nothing  to  an  eternity ;  and  this  habit  is  so 
inveterately  rooted  in  us,  that  all  the  force  of  reason 
cannot  induce  us  to  lay  it  aside. 

7.  Cromwell  would  have  laid  desolate  all  Christen- 
dom. The  royal  family  was  ruined  ;  his  own  was 
completely  established  :  but  for  a  small  grain  of  sand, 

which  entered  the  urethra,  even  Rome  would  have 
trembled  before  him ;  but  when  only  this  atom  of 
gravel,  which  elsewhere  was  as  nothing,  was  placed 
in  that  spot,  behold  he  dies,  his  familj'  is  degraded, 
and  the  king  restored  ! 

8.  We  see  scarcely  any  thing,  just  or  unjust,  that 
does  not  change  its  quality  with  its  climate.  Three 
degrees  of  latitude  upset  all  the  principles  of  juris- 
prudence ;  a  meridian  determines  what  is  truth,  or  a 
few  years  of  settled  authority.  Fundamental  laws 
may  vary.  Right  has  its  epochs.  Droll  justice  in- 
deed, that  a  river  or  a  mountain  limits  !  Truth  on 
one  side  of  the  Pyrenees  is  error  on  the  other. 

9.  Theft,  incest,  parricide,  infanticide,  each  has  been 
ranked  among  virtuous  actions.      Is    there    any  thing 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MEN.  77 

more  ridiculous,  than  that  a  man  has  the  right  to  kill 
me,  because  he  lives  across  the  water,  and  that  liis 
prince  has  a  quarrel  with  mine,  though  I  have  none 
with  him  ? 

There  are  certainly  natural  laws,  but  this  corrupted 
reason  has  corrupted  every  thing,  JVihil  amplius  nostri 
est  ;  quod  nostrum  dicitnus^  artis  est  ;  ex  senatusconsuliis 
et  plebiscitis  crimina  exercentur^  ut  oliin  vitiis  sic  nunc 
legibus  lahoramus. 

From  this  confusion  it  arises,  that  one  affirms,  that 
the  essential  principle  of  justice  is  the  authority  of 
the  legislature  ;  another,  the  convenience  of  the  sov- 
ereign ;  another,  present  custom :  and  this  is  the  safest. 
There  is  nothing,  if  we  follow  the  light  of  reason  only, 
that  is  in  itself,  independently  just.  Time  alters  every 
thing  ;  custom  makes  equity,  simply  because  it  is  re- 
ceived. That  is  the  mystic  basis  of  its  authority,  and 
he  who  traces  it  to  its  origin,  annihilates  it.  Nothing 
is  so  faulty  as  those  laws  which  redress  faults.  He  who 
obeys  them  because  they  are  just,  cbeys  that  which 
he  has  conceived  to  be  justice,  but  not  the  essence 
of  the  law.  Its  whole  force  lies  in  this  : — It  is  law  and 
nothing  mere.  He  who  looks  into  the  principle  will 
find  it  so  weak  and  flimsy,  that  if  he  is  not  accustomed 
to  the  prodigies  of  the  human  imagination,  he  would 
wonder  how  a  century  could  have  nourished  it  with 
so  much  pomp  and  veneration. 

The  secret  for  overturning  a  state,  is  to  shake  to 
their  foundation  establiyijoiLcustoiT^  by  going  back  to 
their  origin,  and  shewing  thedelect  of  the  authority 
or  the  principle  on  which  they  rest.  "  We  must  re- 
turn," say  they,  "  to  those  fundamental  and  primitive 
laws  of  the  state,  which  corrupt  custom  has  abolished." 
This  is  a  sure  play  for  losing  every  thing.  In  such  a 
balance  nothing  will  appear  right :  yet  the  people 
listen  ea^rly  to  such  discourses.  They  throw  off  the 
yoke  as  soon  as  they  perceive  it ;  and  the  great  make 
their  advantage  of  this  to  ruin  both  them  and  these 
curious  inspectors  of  established  customs.  Yet  there 
is  ail  error  directly  the  reverse  of  this,  and  there  are 
6* 


78  ♦THE  WtAKNESS  OF  MAN. 

men  who  think  that  any   thing   can    be    done   justly, 
which  has  a  precedent  in  its  favor. 

Whence  one  of  the  wisest  legislators  said,  "  That 
for  the  welfare  of  man,  he  must  frequently  he  de- 
ceived ;"  and  another  great  politician  says,  Cum  veri- 
iatem  qua  liheretur  ignoret^expedit  quod  fallatur.  Man 
should  not  ascertain  the  truth  of  the  usurpation  ;  for 
it  was  introduced  in  ancient  times,  without  good  rea- 
son. But  now  it  must  a!wa3'S  be  held  up  as  authentic 
and  eternal;  we  must  veil  its  origin,  if  we  wish  it  to 
be  perpetuated. 

10.  Set  the  greatest  philosopher  in  the  world  upon 
a  plank,  even  broader  than  the  space  he  occupies  in 
walking  on  plain  ground,  and  if  there  is  a  precipice 
below  him.  though  reason  convices  him  of  his  safety, 
his ima^^inati on  will  prevail  to  alarm  him:  the  very 
tho'ughtcl  it  would  make  some  perspire  and  turn  pale. 
Who  does  not  know  that  there  are  persons  so  nervous, 
that  the  sight  of  a  cat,  or  a  rat,  or  the  crushing 
of  a  bit  of  coal,  will  almost  drive  them  out  of  their 
senses. 

11.  Would  3^ou  not  say  of  that  venerable  magistrate, 
whose  years  command  the  respect  of  a  whole  people, 
that  he  is  under  the  control  of  pure  and  dignified  wis- 
dom, and  that  he  judges  of  things  as  they  are,  without 
being  influenced  by  those  adventitious  circumstances 
which  warp  the  imagination  of  the  weak?  But  see 
him  enter  the  verj^  court  where  he  is  to  administer 
justice;  see  him  prepare  to  hear  with  a  gravity  the 
most  exemplary  ;  but  if  an  advocate  appears  to  whom 
nature  has  given  a  hoarse  voice,  or  a  dull  expression 
of  countenance, — if  his  barber  has  but  half  shaved 
him,  or  an  accidental  splash  of  mud  has  fallen  on  him, 
I'll  engage  lor  the  loss  of  the  judge's  self-posseseion. 

12.  The  mirul^of  the  greatest  man  on  earth,  is_not 
so  independent  of  circumstances,  as  not  to  feel  incon- 
venienced by  the  merest  buzzing  noise  about  him;  it 
does  not  need  the  repoil  ol  a  cannon  to  disturb  his 
thoughts-.  The  creaking  of  a  vane  or  pully  is  quite 
enough.     Do  not  wonder  that  he  reasons  ill  just   now  ; 


THE  WEAKNESS  OE  MAN.  79 

a  fly  is  buzzing  by  his  ear ;  it  is  quite  enough  to  unfit 
him  for  giving  good  counsel.  If  jou  wish  him  to  see 
the  rights  of  the  case,  drive  jiway  that  insect,  which 
suspends  his  reasoning  powers,  and  frets  that  mighty 
mind  which  governs  cities  and  kingdoms. 

13.  Tiie  will  is  one  of  the  principal  sources  of 
belief;  not  Thai  it  produces  belief,  but  that  things  ap- 
pear true  or  false  to  us  according  to  the  way  they  are 
looked  at.  The  will,  which  inclines  to  one  thing 
more  than  another,  turns  away  the  mind  from  consid- 
ering the  qualities  of  that  which  it  does  not  approve  ; 
and  thus  the  whole  mind  led  by  the  will  or  inclination, 
limits  its  observation  to  what  it  approves,  and  thus 
forming  its  judgment  on  what  it  sees,  it  insensibly 
regulates  its  belief  by  the  inclinations  of  the  will,  i.  e. 
by  its  own  preferences. 

14.  Disease  is  another  source  of  error.  It  impairs 
the  judg'menT  and  the  senses :  and  if  serious  disorders 
do  visibly  produce  this  elTect,  doubtless  minor  ailments 
do  so  in  proportion. 

Self-interest  also  is  a  surprising  means  of  inducing 
a  voTunlary  blindness.  Affection  or  dislike  will  alter 
our  notions  of  justice.  For  instance,  when  an  advo- 
cate is  well  paid  before  hand,  how  much  more  just  he 
thinks  the  cause  which  he  has  to  plead.  Yet  owing 
to  another  strange  peculiarity  of  the  human  mind,  I 
have  known  men  who,  lest  they  should  serve  their 
own  interest,  have  been  cruellj'  unjust,  through  a  con- 
trary bias  :  so  that  the  sure  way  to  lose  a  good  cause, 
was  to  get  it  recommended  to  them  by  one  of  their 
near  relations. 

15.  The  imagination  often  magnifies  the  veriest 
trifle,  by~a~false  ancTromantic  preference,  till  it  fills 
the  whole  soul;  or  in  its  heedless  presumption,  brings 
down  the  most  elevated  subjects  to  our  own  low  stand- 
ard. ' 

iQ.  Justice  and  truth  are    two  points  of  such  ex 
quisite  delicacy,  that  our  coarse  and  blunted  instru- 
ments will  not  touch  them  accurately.     If  they  do  find 
out  the  point,  so  as  to  rest  upon  it,  they  bruise  and  in- 


80  THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN'. 

jore  it,  and  lean  at  last  more    on  the    error  that    sur-- 
rounds  it,  than  on  the  truth  itself. 

17.  It  is  not  only  old  and  early  impressions  that  de- 
ceive us  :  the  charms  of  novelty  have  the  same  power. 
Hence  arise  all  the  differences  among  men,  who  re- 
proach each  other,  either  with  following  the  false 
impressions  of  their  infancy,  or  with  hastily  running 
after  new  ones. 

Who  keeps  the  golden  mean?  Let  him  stand  forth 
ana  prove  it.  There  is  not  a  single  principle,  how- 
ever simply  natural,  and  existing  from  childhood,  that 
may  net  be  made  to  appear  a  false  impression,  con- 
veyed by  instruction  or  the  senses.  Because,  say 
they,  you  have  believed  from  your  infancy  that  a  chest 
was  empty  when  you  saw  that  there  w^as  nothing  in 
it,  y6u  have  assumed  that  a  vacuum  is  possibW.  But 
this  is  a  strong  delusion  of  your  senses,  confirmed  by 
habit,  which  science  must  correct.  Others  on  the 
contrary  say,  because  you  have  been  taught  in  the 
schools,  that  there  is  no  vacuum  in  nature,  your  com- 
mon sense,  which  previous  to  this  delusive  impression, 
saw  the  thing  clearly  enough,  has  been  corrupted,  and 
must  be  corrected  by  a  recurrence  to  the  dictates  of 
nature.  Now,  which  is  the  deceiver  here,  our  senses 
or  our  education? 

18.  All  the  occupations  of  men  have  respect  to  the 
obtaining  of  property  ;  and  yet  the  title  by  which  they 
possess  it,  is  at  first  only  the  whim  of  the  original  leg-- 
islator :  and  after  all,  no  power  that  they  have,  will 
insure  possession.  A  thousand  accidents  may  rob  them 
of  it.  It  is  the  same  with  scientific  attainment :  Dis- 
ease takes  it  away. 

19.  What  are  our  natural  principles,  but  the  result 
of  custom  ?  In  children,  they  are  those  which  have 
resulted  from  the  custom  of  their  parents,  as  the  chace 
in  animals.       ^ 

'  A  differen-t  custom  would  give  different  natural 
principles.  Experience  proves  this.  And  if  there 
are  some  that  custom  cannot  eradicate,  there  are 
some  impressions  arising  from  custom,  that  nature  can- 
not do  away.     This  depends  on  disposition. 


THE  WEAKNESS   OF  MAN".  81 

Parents  fear  the  destruction  of  natural  affection  in 
their  children.  What !  is  this  natural  principle  so 
liable  to  decay  ?  Habit  is  a  second  nature,  which  de- 
stroys the  first.  Why  is  not  custom  nature  ?  I  sus- 
pect that  this  nature  itself,  is  but  a  first  custom,  as 
custom  is  a  second  nature. 

20.  If  we  were  to  dream  every  night  the  same 
thing,  it  would  probabl}'  have  as  much  effect  upon  us 
as  the  objects  which  we  see  daily  ;  and  if  an  artisan 
were  sure  of  dreaming' every  night  for  some  hours 
continuance,  that  he  was  a  king,  I  think  he  would  be 
almost  as  happy  as  a  king,  who  should  dream  every 
night  for  twelve  hours  successively,  that  he  was  an 
artisan.  If  we  should  dream  every  night  that  we  are 
pursued  by  enemies,  and  harrassed  by  distressing 
phantoms,  and  that  we  passed  all  our  days  in  different 
occupations,  as  if  we  were  travelling  ;  we  should  suf- 
fer almost  as  much  as  if  this  were  true,  and  we  should 
dread  to  sleep  just  as  much  as  we  dread  -  to  awake, 
when  we  fear  to  enter  really  upon  such  afflictions.  In 
fact  these  dreams  would  be  almost  as  serious  an  evil, 
as  the  reality.  But  because  these  dreams  are  all  dif- 
ferent, what  we  see  ia  them  afflicts  us  much  less  than 


V    7 


what  we  see  when  awake,  on  account  of  its  C( 
— a  continuity  however,  not  so  equal  and  uniform  that 
it  undergoes  no  change,  but  less  violently,  as  in  a  voy- 
age ;  and  then  we  say,  "  I  seem  to  myself  to  dream  ;-' 
or  life  is  a  dream  a  little  less  variable. 

21.  We  suppose  that  all  men  conceive  and  feel  in 
the  same  way,  the  objects  that  are  presented  to  them: 
but  we  suppose  this  very  gratuitously,  for  we  have  no 
proof  of  it.  I  see  plainly  that  the  same  word  is  used 
on  the  same  occasion  ;  and  that  wherever  two  men 
see  snow,  for  example,  they  express  their  notion  of 
the  same  object  by  the  same  word, — both  saying  that 
it  is  white  ;  and  from  this  agreement  of  the  application 
of  terms,  we  draw  a  strong  conjecture  in  favor  of  a 
conformity  of  ideas  ;  but  this  is  not  absolutely  convinc- 
ing, though  there   is  good  ground  for  the  supposition. 

22.  When  we  see  an  effect  regularly  recurring,  we 


82  THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN. 

conclude  that  there  is  a  natural  necessity  for  it,  as  that 
the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow,  &c.  But  in  many  things 
nature  deceives  us,  and  does  not  yield  a  perfect  sub- 
mission to  its  own  laws. 

23.  Many  things  that  are  certain  are  contrdicted  ; 
many  that  are  false  pass  without  contradiction  :  con- 
tradiction is  no  proof  of  falsehood,  nor  universal  as- 
sent, of  truth. 

24.  The  instructed  mind  discovers  that  as  nature 
carries  the  imprint  of  its  author  stamped  on  all  things, 
they  all  have  a  certain  relation  to  his  two-fold  infinity. 
Thus  we  see  that  all  the  sciences  are  infinite  in  the 
extent  to  which  their  researches  may  be  carried. — 
Who  doubts,  for  instance,  that  geometry  involves  in 
it  an  infinity  of  infinities  of  propositions  ?  It  is  infinite 
also  in  the  multitude  and  the  delicacy  of  its  principles  ; 
for  who  does  not  perceive  that  any  which  are  propos- 
ed as  the  last,  must  rest  upon  themselves,  which  is 
absurd  ;  and  that  in  fact  they  are  sustained  by  others, 
which  have  others  again  for  their  basis,  and  must  thus 
eternally  exclude  the  idea  of  an  ultimate    proposition. 

We  see  at  a  glance  that  arithmetic  alone  furnishes 
principles  without  number,  and  each  science  the  same. 

But  if  the  infinitely  small  is  much  less  discernible 
than  the  infinitely  great,  philosophers  have  much  more 
readily  pretended  to  have  attained  to  it;  and  here  all 
have  stumbled.  This  error  has  given  rise  to  those 
terms  so  commonly  in  use,  as  "  the  principles  of  things 
— the  principles  of  of  philosophy  ;"  and  other  similar 
expressions,  as  conceited,  in  fact,  though  not  quite  so 
obtrusively  so  as  that  insufferably  disgusting  title,  De 
omni  scibili.* 

Let  us  not  seek  then  for  assurance  and  stability. 
Our  reason  is  perpetually  deceived  by  the  variableness 
of  appearances,  nothing  can  fix  that  which  is  finite, 
between  the  two  infinites  that  enclose  it,  and  fly  from 
it ;  and  when  this  Is  well  understood,  each  man  will,  I 


*The  title  of  a  thesis  maintained  at  Rome  by  Jean  Pic  de  la 
Miranadole.      [The  author  was  twenty  four  years  old.  A.  E.] 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN.  83 

believe,  remain  quietly  in  the  position  in  which  na- 
ture has  placed  him.  This  medium  state,  which 
has  fallen  to  our  lot,  being  always  infinitely  distant 
from  the  extremes,  what  matters  it  whether  man  has 
or  has  not  a  little  more  knowledge  of  the  things  around 
him  ?  If  he  has,  why  then  he  traces  them  a  degree  or 
two  higher.  But  is  he  not  ahvays  infinitely  distant 
from  the  extremes,  and  is  not  the  longest  human  life  in 
finitely  short  of  eternity. 

Compared  with  these  infinities,  all  finite  things  are 
equal ;  and  I  see  no  reason  why  the  imagination  should 
occupy  itself  with  one  more  than  another.  Even  the 
least  comparison  that  we  institute  between  ourselves 
and  that  which  is  finite,  gives  us  pain. 

25.  The  sciences  have  two  extremities,  which  touch 
each  other.  The  one  is  ttiat  purenatural  ignorance 
in  which  we  are  born  :  the  otSer  is  thatj)ointto  whick 
great  minds  attain,  who  having  gone  the  whole  round 
oTpossible  human  knowledge,  find  that,  they  know 
nothing,  and  that  they  end  in  the  same  ignorance  in 
which  they  began.  Bii^_tlian  this  is  an  intelligent  ig-_ 
norance  \yhicliknows"iiself.  Out  of  the  many  however, 
who  have  comeTornTTrom  their  native  ignorance, 
there  are  some  who  have  not  reached  this  other  ex 
treme  ;  these  are  strongly  tinged  with  scientific  con- 
ceit, and  set  up  a  claim  to  be  the  learned  and  intelli- 
gent. These  are  the  men  that  disturb  the  world ;  and 
they  generally  judge  more  falsely  than  all  others. — - 
The  crowd  and  the  men  of  talent  generally  direct  the 
course  of  the  world;  the  others  despise  it  and  are  des- 
pised. 

26.  We  think  ourselves  much  more  capable  of 
reaching  the  centre  of  things,  than  of  grasping  the  cir- 
cumference. The  visible  expanse  of  the  world,  mani-  " 
festly  surpasses  us  ;  but  as  we  visibly  surpass  little 
things,  we  think  ourselves  on  a  vantage  ground  for 
comprehending  them  ;  aad  yet  it  does  not  require  less 
capacity  to  trace  something  down  to  nothing,  than  up 
to  totality.  This  capacity,  in  either  case,  must  be 
infinite ;  and  it  appears  to  me  that  he  who  can  discover 


84  THE  WEAKNESS  OF  MAN. 

the  ultimate  principles  of  things,  might  reach  also  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  infinitely  great.  The  one  de- 
pends on  the  other  ;  the  one  leads  to  the  other.  These 
extremities  touch  and  meet  in  consequence  of  their 
very  distance.     They  meet  in  God,  and  in  God  only. 

If  man  would  begin  hy  studying  himself,  he  would 
soon  see  how  unable  he  is  to  go  further.  How  can 
a  part  comprehend  the  whole  ?  He  would  aspire 
prohably  to  know,  at  least,  those  parts  which  are  sim- 
ilar in  proportion  to  himself.  But  all  parts  of  creation 
have  such  a  relation  to  each  other,  and  are  so  inter- 
twined, that  I  think  it  is  impossible  to  know  one  with- 
out knowing  the  other,  and  even  the  whole. 

Man  for  instance,  has  a  relation  to  all  that  he  knows. 
He  needs  space  to  contain  him — time  for  existence — 
motion  that  he  may  live — elements  for  his  substance — 
warmth  aud  food  to  nourish  him,  and  air  to  breathe. 
He  sees  the  light,  he  feels  his  material  body.  In 
fact,  every  thing  is  allied  with  him. 

To  understand  man,  therefore,  we  must  know  where- 
in it  is  that  air  is  needful  for  his  support ;  and  to  un- 
derstand air,  we  must  trace  its  relation  to  human  life. 

Flame  will  not  live  without  air ;  then  to  compre- 
hend the   one,  we  must  comprehend  the  other  also. 

Since,  then,  all  things  are  either  caused  or  causes, 
assisting  or  being  assisted,  mediately  or  immediately  ; 
and  all  are  related  to  each  other  by  a  natural  and  im- 
perceptible bond  which  unites  together  things  the 
most  distant  and  dissimilar;  I  hold  it  impossible  to  know 
the  parts,  without  knowing  the  whole,  and  equally  so 
to  know  the  whole  without  knowing  the  parts  in  detail. 

And  that  which  completes  our  inability  to  know  the 
essential  nature  of  things  is,  that  they  are  simple,  and 
that  we  are  a  compound  of  two  different  and  opposing 
natures,  body  and  spirit ;  for  it  is  impossible  that  the 
portion  of  us  which  thinks,  can  be  other  than  spiritual ; 
and  as  to  the  pretence,  that  we  are  simply  corporeal, 
that  would  exclude  us  still  more  entirely  from  the 
knowledge  of  things;  because  there  is  nothing  more 
inconceivable,  than  that  matter  could  comprehend 
itself. 


THE  WEAK^^ESS   OF  MAM.  85 

It  is  this  compound  nature  of  body  and  spirit  which  had 
led  almost  all  the  philosophers  to  confuse  their  ideas  of 
things ;  and  to  attribute  to  matter  that  which  belongs 
only  to  spirit,  and  to  spirit,  that  which  cannot  consist 
but  with  matter;  for,  they  say  boldly,  That  bodies 
tend  downwards  ;  that  they  seek  the  centre  ;  that  they 
shrinic  from  destruction  ;  that  they  dread  a  vacuum^ 
that  they  have  inclinations,  sympathies,  antipathies,  &c. 
which  are  all  qualities  that  can  only  exist  in  mind. 
And  in  speaking  of  "spirits,  they  consider  them  as  oc- 
cupying a  place  and  attribute  to  them' motion  from 
oiae.  -plaGe-to  another,  &.c.  which  are  the    qualities    of 

Instead,  therefore,  of  rec-eivi^gllie  ideas   of-things^j ,. 
simply  as  they  are,  we  tinge,  with  the  qualities  of  our 
compound  being,  all  the  simple    things  that   we    con- 
template. 

Who  would  not  suppose,  w^hen  they  see  us  attach  to 
every  thing  the  compound  notions  of  body  and  spirit, 
that  this  mixture  was  familiarly  comprehensible  to  us  ? 
Yet  it  is  the  thing  ofwhich  we  know  the  least.  Man 
is,  to  himself,  the  most  astonishing  object  in  nature, 
tor  he  cannot  conceive  Avhat  body  is,  still  less  what 
spirit  is,  and  less  than  all,  how  a  body  and  a  spirit 
can  be  united.  That  is  the  climax  of  his  difficulties, 
and  yet  it  is  his  proper  being.  Modus  quo  corporibus 
adhoeret  spiritns  comprehendi  ah  honiinibus  non  potest^  et 
hoc  tamen  homo  est.^ 

27.  Man,  then,  is  the_siibiect  of  a  host  of  errors^ 
that  divine  grace  only  can_rem"over  Nothing  shews 
him  the  truth  ;  every  timigmisleads  him.  Reason 
and  the  senses,  the  two  means  of  ascertaining  truth, 
are  not  only  often  unfaithful,  but  mutually  deceive 
each  other.  Our  senses  mislead  our  reason  by  false 
impressions  ;  and  reason  also  has  its  revenge,  by  retort- 
ing the  same  trick  upon  our  senses.     The  passions  of 


*The  union  of  mind  with  matter,  is  a  subject  utterly  incom- 
prehensible to  man,  and  yet  this  is  man's  essential  nature. 
7 


THE  MISERY  OF  MAN. 


the  soul  disturb  the  senses,  and  excite  evil  impressions; 
and  thus  our  two  sources  of  knowledge  mutually  lie, 
and  deceive  each  other. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  MISERY  OF  MAN. 


Nothing  more  directly  introduces  us  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  human  misery,  than  an  inquiry  into 'the  cause^ 
ot  that  peVpetualrcstlessness  in  which  men  pass  ttiei'r 
^tiole  lives.  ■ — — ""^  "    ' 

^Tho  soul  is  placed  in  the  body  to  sojourn  there 
for  a  short  time.  She  knows  that  this  is  only  the 
prelude  to  an  eternal  progress,  to  prepare  for  which, 
she  has  but  the  short  period  of  this  present  life.  Of 
this  the  mere  necessities  of  nature  engross  a  large  por- 
tion, and  the  remainder  which  she  might  use,  is  small 
indeed.  Yet  this  little  is  such  a  trouble  to  her,  and  the 
source  of  such  strange  perplexity,  that  she  only  stud- 
ies how  to  throw  it  away.  To  live  with  herself,  and 
to  think  of  herself,  is  a  burden  quite  insupportable. — 
Hence  all  her  care  is  to  forget  herself,  and  to  let  this 
period,  short  and  precious  as  it  is,  flow  on  without  re- 
flection, whilst  she  is  busied  with  things  that  prevent 
her  from  thinking  of  it. 

This  is  the  cause  of  all  the  bustling  occupations  of 
men,  and  of  alFthat  is  called  diversicn  or  nfiGtlnic,  in 
which  they  liave  really  but  one  object — to  let  the  time 
glide  by  without  perceiving  it,  or  rather  without    per- 


ceiving self,  and  to  avoid,  oy  the  sacrilice  of  this  por- 
tion  ol  lite7the  bitterness  and  disgust  of  soul  which 
would  result  Trom  selt-inspection  during  that  time.  The 
^ul  finals  in  ner^TTifTrcrtlling-  gratH^Ing.^BTieTlncIs  noth- 
ing but  what  grieves  her  when  she  thinks  of  it.  This 
compels  her  to  look  abroad,  and  to  seek,  by  a  devotion 
to  external  things,  to  drowai  the   consciousness  of  her 


•    THE  MISERY   OF  MAN.  87 

real  condition.  Her  joy  is  in  this  oblivion  ;  and  to 
compel  her  to  look  within,  and  to  be  her  own  com- 
panion,   is  to  make  her  thoroughly  wretched. 

Men  are  burdened  from  their  infant  years  with  the 
care  of  their  honor  and  their  property,  and  even  of 
the  property  and  the  honor  of  their  relations  and 
friends.  They  a-re  oppressed  with  the  study  of  lan- 
guages, sciences,  accomplishments,  and  arts.  They 
are  overwhelmed  with  business,  and  are  taught  to  be- 
lieve that  they  cannot  be  happy  unless  they  manage 
by  their  industry  and  attention,  that  their  fortune  and 
reputation,  and  the  fortune  and  reputation  of  their 
friends,  be  flourishing:  and  that  a  failure  in  any  one 
of  these  things  would  make  them  miserable.  And 
hence  they  are  engaged  in  duties  and  businesses  w-hich 
harass  them  from  morning  till  night.  "  A  strange 
method  this,"  you  would  say,  "  to  make  men  happy  ; 
what  could  we  do  more  effectually  to  make  them  mis- 
erable V  Do  you  ask  what  we  could  do  ?  Alas  !  we 
have  but  to  release  them  from  these  cares,  for  then 
they  would  see  and  consider  themselves  ;  and  this  is 
unbearable.  ■  And  in  proof  of  this  we  see,  that  with  all 
this  mass  of  cares,  if  they  have  yet  any  interval  of  re- 
laxation, tliey  hasten  to  squander  it  on  some  amuse- 
ment that  shall  completely  till  the  void,  and  hide 
them  from  themselves. 

On  this  account,  when  I  have  set  myself  to  consid- 
er the  varied  turmoil  of  life  ;  the  toil  and  danger  to 
which  men  expose  themselves  at  courts,  in  war,  and  in 
the  pursuit  of  their  ambitious  projects,  which  give 
rise  to  so  m.uch  quarrelling  and  passion,  and  to  so 
many  desperate  and  fatal  adventures  :  I  have  often 
said  that  all  the  misfortunes  of  men  spring  from  their 
not  knowing  how  to  live  quietly  at  home,  in  their 
own  rooms.  If  a  man,  who  has  enough  to  live  on, 
did  but  know  how  to  live  with  himself,  he  would  nev- 
er go  to  sea,  or  to  besiege  a  city,  merely  for  the  sake 
of  occupation ;  and  he  whose  only  object  is  to  live, 
would  have  no  need  to  seek  such  dangerous  employ- 
ments. 


88  THE    MISERY  OF  MAN. 

But  wliea  1  have  looked  into  the  matter  more  close- 
ly, I  have  found  that  this  aversion  to  repose,  and  to 
the  society  of  self,  originates  in  a  very  powerful 
cause,  namely,  in  the  natural  evils  of  our  weak  and 
mortal  slate, — a  state  so  completely  wretched,  that 
whenever  nothing  hinders  us  from  thinking  of  it,  and 
we  thoroughly  survey  ourselves,  we  are  utterly  incon- 
solable. Of  course,  I  speak  onW  of  those  who  medi- 
tate on  themselves  without  the  aid  of  religion.  For 
most  assuredly  it  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  that  it  reconciles  man  to  himself  in  rec- 
onciling him  to  his  God  ;  that  it  makes  self-examin- 
ation bearable,  and  solitude  and  silence  more  interest- 
ing than  the  tumults  and  the  busy  intercourse  of  men. 
But  religion  does  not  produce  this  mighty  change  by 
confining  man  to  the,survey  of  himself  It  does  this  on- 
ly by  leading  him  up  to  God,  and  sustaining  him,  even  in 
the  consciousness  of  his  present  misery,  withthe  hope 
of  another  existence,  in  which  he  shall  be  freed  from 
it  forever. 

But  as  for  those  wRX)  act  only  according  to  the  im- 
pulse of  those  natural  motives,  that  they  find  within 
them,  it  is  impossible  that  they  can  live  in  that  tran- 
quililj^  which  favors  self-examination,  without  being 
instantl}'  the  prey  of  chagrin  and  melancholy.  The 
man  who  loves  nothing  but  self,  dislikes  nothing  so 
much  as  being  with  himself  only.  He  seeks  nothing 
but  for  himself;  yet  he  flies  from  nothing  so  eagerly 
as  self;  for  when  he  sees  himself,  he  is  not  Avhat  he 
v.ishes;  and  he  finds  in  himself  an  accumulation  of 
miseries  that  he  cannot  shun,  and  a  vacuity  of  all 
real  and  substantial  good  which  he  cannot  fill. 

Let  a  man  choose  what  condition  he  will,  and  let  him 
accumulate  around  him  all  the  goods  and  all  the  grati- 
fications seemiiigly  calculated  to  make  him  happy  in 
it;  it'that  man  is  left  at  any  time  without  occupation 
or  amusement,  and  reflects  on  what  he  is,  the  meagre 
lano'uid  felicity  of  his  present  lot  vvill  not  bear  him  up. 
He  will  turn  necessarily  to  gloomy  anticipations  of  the 
future;  and  except,  theroibre,  his  occupation  calls 
him  out  of  himself,  he  is  inevitably  wretched. 


•rnE  MiSEP.Y  OF  man".  89 

But  is  not  royal  dignity  sufficient  of  itself  to  make 
its  possessor  happy,  by  the  mere  contemplation  oi* 
what  he  is  as  a  king?  Must  he  too  be  withdrawn 
from  this  thought  the  same  as  other  men  ?  I  see 
plainly  that  it  makes  a  man  happy  to  turn  him  away 
fr'om  the  thought  of  his  domestic  sorrows,  and  to  en- 
gage all  the  energy  of  his  mind  in  the  attaining  of 
some  light  accomplishments,  even  sucli  as  dancing: 
but  is  it  so  with  a  king  ?  AVould  he  be  happier  in  a 
devotion  to  these  vain  amusements,  than  in  the 
thought  of  his  own  greatness  ;  What  object  more  sat- 
isfying can  be  given  to  him?  Would  it  not  be  thwart- 
ing his  joy^  to  degrade  his  mind  to  the  thought  how 
to  regulate  his^teps  by  the  cadence  of  atiddle,  or  hew 
to  strike  a  billiard  ball ;  instead  of  leaving  him  to  enjoy 
ni  tranquilirty,  the  contemplation  of  the  glory  and  the 
majesty  with  which  he  is  invested?  Try  it:  leave  a 
king  to  himself  without  any  delight  accruing-  to  him 
through  the  senses  ;  leave  him  without  any  care  upon 
his  mind,  and  without  society,  to  think  at  his  leisure 
of  himself,  and  you  will  see  that  a  king  who  looks 
within,  is  a  man  equally  full  of  miseries,  and  equally 
alive  to  them,  with  other  men.  Hence  they  carefully 
avoid  this;  and  there  is  always  about  the  person  of 
kings,  a  number  of  menials,  whose  concern  it  is  to  pro- 
vide diversion  when  business  is  done,  and  who  watch 
for  their  hours  of  leisure  to  supply  them  with  pleasures 
and  sports,  that  they  may  never  feel  vacuity;  that  is, 
in  fact,  they  are  surrounded  by  persons  who  take  the 
most  scrupulous  care,  that  the  king  shall  not  be  left 
alone  to  be  his  own  companion,  and  in  a  situation  to 
think  of  himself;  because  they  know  that  if  he  does, 
with  all  his  royalty,  he  must  be  wretched. 

The  principal  thing  which  bears  m.en  up  under 
those  weighty  concerns,  which  are,  in  other  respects, 
so  oppressive,  is  that  they  are  thus  perpetually  kept 
from  thinking  of  themselves. 

For  instance:  What  is  the  being  a  governor,  a  chan- 
cellor^ a  prime  minister,  but  the  having  a  number  of 
attendants  flocking  on  every  side  to  prevent  them  from 


90  THE  MISERY   OF  MAN. 

having  a  single  hour  in  the  day  in  which  they  can 
ihink  of  self?  And  when  such  men  are  out  of  favor, 
and  are  banished  to  their  country-seats,  where  thej 
have  no  want  of  either  money  or  servants  to  supply 
their  real  wants,  then  indeed  they  are  wretched,  be- 
cause then  they  have  leisure  to  think  of  self  without 
hindrance. 

Hence  it  is  that  so  many  persons  fly  to  play  or  to 
field  sports,  or  to  any  other  amusement  which  occupies 
the  whole  soul.  Not  that  they  expect  happiness  from 
any  thing  so  acquired,  or  that  they  suppose  that  real 
bliss  centres  in  the  money  that  they  Vv-in,  or  the  hare 
that  they  catch.  They  would  not  have  either  as  a  gift. 
The  fact  is,  they  are  not  seeking  for  that  mild  and 
peaceful  course  which  leaves  a  man  leisure  to  specu- 
late on  his  unhappy  condition,  but  for  that  incessant 
hurry  which  renders  this  impracticable. 

Hence  it  is,  that  men  love  so  ardently  the  whirl  and 
the  tumult  of  the  world;  that  imprisonment  is  so  fear- 
ful a  punishment ;  and  that  so  few  persons  can  endure 
solitude. 

This,  then,  is  all  that  men  have  devised  to  make 
themselves  happy.  And  those  who  amuse  themselves 
by  shewing  the  emptiness  and  the  poverty  of  such 
amusements,  have  certainly  a  right  notion  of  a  part  of 
human  misery  ;  for  it  is  no  small  evil  to  be  capable  of 
finding  pleasure  in  things  so  low  and  contemptible; 
but  they  do  not  yet  know  the  full  depth  of  that  misery 
which  renders  these  same  miserable  and  base  expedi- 
ents absolutely  necessary  to  man,  so  long  as  he  is  not 
cured  of  that  internal  natural  evil,  the  not  being  able 
to  endure  the  contemplation  of  himself.  The  hare 
that  he  buys  in  the  market,  will  not  call  him  off  from 
himself,  but  the  chase  of  it  may.  And  therefore,  Avhen 
we  tell  them  that  what  they  seek  so  ardently  will  not 
satisfy  them,  and  that  nothing  can  be  more  mean  and 
profitless,  we  know  that,  if  they  answered  as  they 
would  do  if  they  thought  seriously  of  it,  they  would  so 
far  agree  with  us  at  once  ;  only  that  they  would  say 
also,  that  they  merely  seek  in  these    things   a   violent 


THE  MISERY    OF  MAN.  9f 

impetuous  occupation,  which' shall  divert  them  from 
themselves,  and  that  with  this  direct  intention,  they 
choose  some  attractive  object  which  engages  and  oc- 
cupies them  entirely.  But  then  they  will  not  answer 
in  this  way,  because  they  do  not  know  themselves.  A 
gentleman  believes  sincerely  that  there  is  something 
noble  and  dignified  in  the  chace.  He  will  say  it  is  a 
royal  sport.  And  it  is  the  same  with  other  things 
which  occupj^  the- great  mass  of  men.  They  conceive 
that  there  is  something  really  and  substantially  good  in 
the  object  itself  A  man  persuades  himself  that,  if  he 
obtained  this  employment,  then  he  would  enjoy  re- 
pose. But  he  does  not  perceive  the  insatiability  of 
his  own  desires  ;  and  while  he  believes  that  he  is  in 
search  of  rest,  he  is  actually  seeking  after  additional 
care. 

Men  have  a  secret  instinct  leading  them  to  seek 
pleasure  and  occupation  from  external  sources,  which 
originates  in  the  sense  of  their  continual  misery.  But 
they  have  also  another  secret  instinct,  a  remnant  of 
the  original  grandeur  of  their  nature,  which  intimates 
to  them  that  happiness  is  to  be  found  only  in  repose  ;' 
and  from  these  opposite  instincts,  there  emanates  a 
confused  project,  which  is  hidden  from  their  view  in 
the  very  depth  of  the  soul,  and  which  prompts  them 
to  seek  repose  by  incessant  action  ;  and  ever  to  lex^ 
pect  that  the  fulness  of  enjoyment,  which  as  yet  they 
have  not  attained,  will  infallibly  be  realized,  if,  by 
overcoming  certain  difficulties  which  immediately  op 
pose  them,  they  might  open  the  way  to  rest. 

And  thus  the  whole  of  life  runs  aw^ay.  We  seek  re-- 
pose  by  the  struggle  with  opposing  difficulties,  and  the 
instant  we  have  overcome  them,  that  rest  becomes  ia- 
supportable.  .  For  generally  we  are  occupied  either 
with  the  miseries  which  now  we  feel,  or  with  those 
which  threaten ;  and  even  when  we  see  ourselves 
sufficiently  secure  from  the  approach  of  either,  still 
fretfulness,  though  unwarranted  by  either  present  or 
expected  affliction,  fails  not  to  spring  up  from  the  deep 
recesses  of  the  heart,  where  its  roots  naturally  grow,: 
and  to  fill  the  soul  with  its  poison. 


92  THE  MISERY  OF  MAN. 

i 

And  hence  it  is  plain,  that  Avhen  Cineas  said  to 
Pyrrhus,  who  proposed  to  himself,  after  having  con- 
quered a  large  portion  of  the  world,  then  to  sit  down 
and  and  enjoy  repose  with  his  friends,  that  he  had  bet- 
ter hasten  forward  his  own  happiness  now,  by  imme- 
diately enjoying  repose,  than  seek  it  through  so  much 
fatigue  ;  he  advised  a  course  which  involved  serious 
difficulties,  and  which  was  scarcely  more  rational  than 
the  project  of  this  hero's  youthful  ambition.  Both 
plans  assumed  that  man  can  be  satisfied  with  himself, 
and  with  his  present  blessings,  and  not  feel  a  void  in  his 
heart,  Avhich  must  be  filled  with  imaginary  hopes : 
and  here  they  were  both  in  error.  Pyrrhus  could  not 
have  been  happ}^  either  before  or  after  the  conquest 
of  the  world;  and  most  probably  the  life  of  indolent 
repose  which  his  minister  recommended,  'was  less 
adapted  to  satisfy  him  than  the  restless  hurry  of  his 
intended  jvars  and  wanderings. 

^Ve  are  compelled  then  to  admit,  that  man  is  so 
wretched,  that  he  will  vex  himself,  independently  of 
any  external  cause  of  vexation,  from  the  mere  circum- 
stances of  his  natural  condition  ;  and  yet  with  all  this 
he  is  so  vain  and  full  of  levity,  that  in  the  midst  of  a 
thousand  causes  of  real  distress,  the  merest  trifle 
Serves  to  divert  him.  So  that  on  serious  reflection,  we 
see  that  he  is  far  more  to  be  commiserated  that  he 
can  find  enjoyment  in  things  so  frivolous  and  so  con- 
temptible, than  that  he  mourns  over  his  real  sorrows. 
His  amusements  are  infinitely  less  rational  than  his  la- 
mentations. 

2.  Whence  is  it  that  this,  man,  who  lost  so  lately  an 
only  son,  and  who,  under  the  pressure  of  legal  proces- 
ses and  disputes,  w^as  this  morning  so  harrassed,  now 
thinks  of  these  things  no  more?  Alas!  it  is  no  won- 
der. He  is  wholly  engrossed  in  watching  the  fate  of 
a  poor  deer,  that  his  dogs  have  been  chasing  for  six 
hours.  And  nothing  more  than  this  is  necessary  for  a 
man,  though  he  is  brimful  of  sorrows !  If  he  can  but  be 
induced  to  apply  himself  to  some  source  of  recreation, 
he  is  happy  for  the  time  ;  but  then  it  is    with  a   false 


THE  MISERY   OF  MAN.  93 

?ind  delusive  happiness,  which  comes  not  from  the 
possession  of  any  real  and  substantial  good  but  from  a 
spirit  of  levity,  that  drowns  the  memory  of  his  real 
griefs,  and  occupies  him  with  mean  and  contemptible 
thing's,  utterly  unworthy  of  his  attention,  much  more 
of  his  love.  It  is  a  morbid  and  frantic  joy,  which 
flows  not  from  the  health  of  the  soul,  but  from  its  dis- 
order. It  is  the  laugh  of  folly  and  of  delusion.  It  is 
wonderful  also  to  think  what  it  is  which  pleases  men 
in  their  cports  and  recreations.  It  is  true,  that  by  oc- 
cupying the  mind,  they  seduce  it  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  its  real  sorrows  i  and  so  far  is"  a  realitj^  But 
then  they  are  only  capable  of  occupying  the  mind  at 
all,  because  it  has  created  for  itself  in  them,  a  merely 
imaginary  object  of  desire,  to  which  it  is  fondly  and 
passionately  devoted. 

What  think  you  is  the  object  of  those  men  who  are 
pla3dng  at  tennis  with  such  intense  interest  of  mind 
and  effort  of  bod}'  ?  Merely  to  boast  the  next  day 
among  their  friends,  that  they  have  played  better  than 
another.  There  is  the  spring  of  their  devotedness. — 
Others  again  in  the  same  way  toil  in  their  closets,  to 
shew  the  S(;avans  thnt  they  have  solved  a  question  in 
algebra,  which  was  never  solved  before.  Others  ex- 
pose themselves,  with  at  least  equal  folly,  to  the 
greatest  dangers,  to  boast  at  length  of  some  place  that 
they  have  Jaken  :  and  others  there  are,  Avho  w^ear  out 
life  in  remarkiug  on  those  things  ;  not  that  the}'  them- 
selves may  grow  wiser,  but  purely  to  shew  that  they 
see  the  folly  of  them.  And  theseseem  the  silliest  of 
all ;  because  they  ape  conscious  of  their  folly  :  whilst 
we  may  hope  of  the  others,  that  they  w^ould  act  differ- 
ently if  they  knew  better. 

3.  A  man  Tvill  pass  his  days  without-  weariness,  in 
daily  play  for  a  trifling  stake,  whom  you  would  make 
directly  wretched,  by  giving  to  him  each  morning  the 
probable  winnings  of  the  day,  on  condition  of  his  not 
playing.  You  will  say,"  But  it  is  the  amusement  he 
wants,  and  not  the  gain."  Then  make  him  play  for 
nothing,  and  you  will  see  that  for  want  of  risk,  he  will 


94  THE  MISERY  OF  MA'S. 

lose  interest,  and  become  weary.  EA'idently,  then,  it 
is  not  only  amusement  that  he  seeks.  An  amusement 
not  calculated  to  excite  the  passions,  is  languid  and  fa- 
tiguing. He  must  get  warmth,  animation,  stimulus,  in 
the  thought  that  he  shall  be  happy  in  winning  a  trifle, 
that  he  Avould  not  consider  worth  a  straw,  if  it  were 
offered  him  without  the  risk  of  play.  He  must  have 
an  objectof  emotion  adequate  to  excite  desire,  and  an- 
ger, and  hope,  and  fear. 

So  that  the  amusements  which  constitute  men's  hap- 
piness here,  are  not  only  mean, — they  are  false  and 
deceitful :  that  is  to  say,  they  have  for  their  object  a 
set  of  phantoms  and  illusions,  which  actually  could  not 
occupy  the  human  mind,  if  it  had  not  lost  its  taste  and 
feeling  for  that  which  is  really  good, — if  it  were  not 
filled  with  low  and  mean  propensities,  with  vanity, 
and  levity,  and  pride,  and  a  host  of  other  vices.  And 
these  diversions  only  alleviate  our  present  sorrows,  by 
originating  a  miser}^  more  real  and  more  humiliating. 
For  it  is  they  which  mainly  hinder  us  from  thinking  of 
ourselves,  and  make  us  lose  our  time  without  perceiv- 
ing it.  Without  them,  we  should  be  unhappy,  and 
this  unhappiness  would  drive  us  to  seek  some  more 
satisfactor}^  way  of  peace.  But  amusement  allures 
and  deceives  us,  and  leads  us  down  imperceptibly  in 
thoughtlessness  to  tiie  grave. 

Men  finding  that  they  had  no  remedy  for  death, 
misery,  and  ignorance,  have  imagined  that  the  way  to 
happiness  was  not  to  think  of  these  things.  This  is 
all  that  they  have  been  able  to  invent,  to  console 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  so  much  evil.  But  it  id 
wretched  comfort  since  it  does  not  profess  to  cure  the 
mischief,  but  merely  to  hide  it  for  a  short  time.  And 
it  does  so  hide  it,  as  to  prevent  all  serious  thought  of 
an  effectual  cure.  And  thus  a  man,  finds,  that  by  a 
strange  derangement  of  his  nature,  emiui,  which  is  the 
evil  that  he  most  strongly  feels,  is  in  a  certain  sense 
his  greatest  good  ;  and  that  amusement,  which  he  re- 
gards as  his  best  blessing,  is,  in  fact,  his  most  serious 
evil ;  because  it  operates  more  than  any  thing  else  to 


~  CONTRARIETIES  IN  MAN.  95 

prevent  him  from  seeking*  a  re.medj  for  his  miseries  ; 
and  hothof  them  are  ti  striking'  proof  of  the  misery  and 
corruption  of  man,  and  of  his  g-reatness  also  ;  since 
Loth  that  weariness  whicTi  he  feels'  in  all  things,  and 
that  restless  search  after  various  and  incessant  occupa- 
tion, spring  equally  from  the  consciousness  of  a  happi- 
ness which  he  has"  lost ;  wliich  happiness,  as  he  does  not 
find  it  in  himself,  he  seeks  fruitlessly  through  the 
whole  round  of  visible  things  ;  but  never  finds  peace, 
because  it  is  not  in  us,  nor  in  the  creature  at  all,  but  in 
God  onl3^ 

Whilst  our  own  nature  makes  us  miserable  in  what- 
ever state  we  are,  our  desires  paint  to  us  another  con- 
dition as  being  happ}^,  because  they  join  to  that  in 
which  we  are,  the  pleasures  of  a  condition  in  which 
we  are  not ;  and  whenever  we  shall  attain  to  those 
expected  pleasures,  we  shall  not  be  therefore  happ}', 
because  other  desires  will  then  spring  up  conformed 
to   som.e  other  condition,  yet  new^  and  unattained. 

Imagine  a  number  of  men  m  chains,  and  ail  con- 
demned to  die,  and  that  while  some  are  slaughtered 
daily  in  the  sight  of  their  companions,  those  v/ho 
yet  remain  see  their  own  sad  destiny  in  that  of  the 
slain,  and  gazing  on  each  other  in  hopeless  sorrow,, 
await  their  doom.  This  is  a  picture  of  the  condition 
of  human  nature. 


\ 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  WONDERFUL  CONTRARIETIES  WHICH  ARE  FOUNE^IN  MAN 
WITH  RESPECT  TO  TRUTH,  HAPPINESS,  AND  MAIJY  OTHER. 
SULJECTS.  *"  ' 


There  is  nothing  more  extraordinary  in  the  nature 
of  man,  than  the  contrarieties,  which  are  discovered 
in  it  on  almost  every  subject.  Man  is  formed  for  the 
knmvledye  oflruth  ;  he  ardenjJ^Ljdesixtia-iJ. ;  he  seeks 
it;  "and  yet.  when  he  strives  to^Tasp_it^he    so    com- 


96  CONTRARIETIES  IN  MAN. 

pletelv  dazzles  and  confounds  himself,  that    he  gives 
occasion  to  doubt,  whether  he  has  attjjjnejT^'t   or  not. 

This  lias  giverVrise  to_the  tao  sectFpt  the  PyrrEon- 
ists^tuTthe^Dogmatists,  of  whom  the  one  vvoula  deny 
^.hat  men  knew  any  thino-  of  trj|th  ;  the  other  professed" 
to  shew  them  that  they  knew  U^accm^ai;ely  :  out  each 
advanced  reasons  so  improbab'le,  that'  they  only  in- 
creased that  confusion  and  perplexity  in  which  man 
must  continue,  so  long  as  he  obtains  no  other  light 
than  that  of  his  own  understanding. 

The  chief^reasons  of  th_e_Pyrrhonists  are  these^  that 
we  have  noassurance  prthe  truth  of  our  principles^ 
(settmg  aside  faith  and  revelation)  exce^)tt]iat  wefind 
them  intuitively  withinj^S'  But  this  intuitive  impres- 
sion is  not  a  convincing  proof  of  their  truth;  because, 
as  without  the  aid  of  faith,  we  have  no  certainty 
whether  man  was  made  by  a  benevolent  Deity,  or  a 
wicked  demon,  whether  man  is  from  eternity,  or  the 
offspring  of  chance,  it  must  remain  doubtful  whether 
these  principles  are  given  to  us, — are  true  or  false  ; 
or  like  our  origin,  uncertain.  Further,  that  except- 
ing by  faith,  a  man  has  no  assurance  whether  he  sleeps 
or  wakes;  seeing  that  in  his  sleep  he  does  not  the 
less  firmly  believe  that  he  is  awake,  than  when  he 
really  is  so.  He  sees  spaces,  tigures,  movements  ;  he 
is  sensible  of  the  lapse  of  time;  he  measures  it;  he 
acts,  in  short,  as  if  he  were  awake.  So  that  as  one 
halfx)f  life  is  admitted  by  us  to  be  passed  in  sleep, 
in  which,  however,  it  may  appear  otherwise,  we  have 
no  perception  of  truth,  and  all  our  feelings  are  delus- 
ions ;  who  knows  but  the  other  half  of  life,  in  which 
we  thinly  we  are  awake,  is  a  sleep  also,  but  in  some 
respects  different  from  the  other,  and  from  which  we 
wake,  when  we,  as  we  callit,  sleep.  Asa  man  dreams 
often  that  he  is  dreaming,  crowding  one  dreamy  delu- 
sion on  another. 

I  leave  untouched  the  arguments  of  the  Fyrrhonists 
against  the  impressions  51  habit,  education,  manners, 
and  national  customs,  and  the  crowd  of  similar  inllucn- 
ces  which  carry  along  the  majority  of  mankind,  who 
build  their  opinions  on  no  more  solid  foundation. 


,  CONTRARIETIES    IN  MAN.  97 

The  onl}^  strong  point  of_the_pog-rpnti^f^  \<  that  we 
cnniiot.  "colitis [(jfUly  with  honosty.  nnd  sincerity^  ^^^^^^ 
our  own  intnilive  principles.  We  know  the  truth, 
they  sa}^,  not  only  by  reasoning",  but  by  feeling,  and  by 
a  quick  and  luminous  power  of  direct  comprehension  ; 
and  it  is  by  this  last  faculty  that  we  discern  lirst  prin- 
ciples. It  is  in  vain  for  reasoning,  which  has  no  share 
in  discovering  these  principles,  to  attempt  subverting 
them.  The  Pyrrhonists  who  attempt  tjiis,  must  try  in 
vain.  However  unable  we  may  be  by  reasoning  to 
prove  the  fact,  yet  we  know  that  we  do  not  dream. 
And  this  inability  may  prove  the  feebleness  of  our  rea- 
son, but  not  as  they  pretend,  the  want  of  reality  and 
substance  in  the  subjects  of  our  knowledge.  For  the 
knowledge  of  first  principles,  as  the  ideas  of  space, 
time,  motion,  number,  matter,  is  as  unequivocally  cer- 
tain, as  any  that  reasoning  imparts.  And,  after  all,  it 
is  on  the  perceptions  of  common  sense  and  feeling,  that 
reason  must,  at  last,  sustain  itself,  and  found  its  own 
argument.  I  perceive  that  space  has  three  dimen- 
sions, and  that  number  is  infinite,  and  reason  demon- 
strates from  this,  that  there  are  not  two  square  num- 
bers, of  which  one  is  just  double  of  the  other.  Prin- 
ciples are  perceived,  propositions  are  deduced  :  each 
part  of  the  process  is  certain,  though  in  different  ways. 
And  it  is  as  ridiculous  that  reason  should  require  of 
feeling  and  perception,  proofs  of  these  first  principles, 
before  she  assents  to  them,  as  it  would  be  that  percep- 
tion should  require  from  reason  an  intuitive  impres- 
sion of  all  the  propositions  at  which  she  arrives.  This 
weakness,  therefore,  will  only  serveto  abase  that  reason 
which  would  become  the  judge  of  all  things,  but  not 
to  invalidate  the  convictions  of  com.mon  sense,  as  if 
reason  only  could  be  our  guide  and  teacher.  Would 
to  God,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  had  no  need  of  reason, 
but  that  we  knew  every  thing  intuitively  by  instinct 
and  feeling.  But  this  blessing  is  withheld  from  us  by 
our  nature  ;  our  knowledge  by  intuitive  impressiojTjs 
very  scanty^;  and,  every  thing  else  must  be  attainedjj^ 


TSnSoning 


8 


98  CONTRARIETIES  IN  MAN. 

-Here  then  is  war  openly  proclaimed  among  men. 
Each  one  must  take  a  side ;  must  necessarily  range 
himself  with  the  Pyrrhonisls  or  the  Dogmatists ;  for  he 
who  would  think  to  remain  neuter,  is  a  Pyrrhonist  par 
excellence.  This  neutrality  is  the  very  essence  of  P3^r- 
rhonism.  He  who  is  not  against  them,  is  completely 
for  them.  What  then  must  a  man  do  in  this  alterna- 
tive ?  Shall  he  doubt  of  every  thing  ?  Shall  he  douht 
that  he  is  awake,  or  that  he  is  pinched  or  burned  ? 
Shall  he  doubt  that  he  doubts  ?  Shall  he  doubt  that  he 
is  ?  We  cannot  get  so  far  as  this  ;  and  1  hold  it  to  be 
a  fact,  that  there  never  has  been  an  absolute  and  per- 
fect Pyrrhonist,  Nature  props  up  the  weakness  of 
reason,  and  prevents  her  from  reaching  this  point  of 
extravagance.  But  then  on  the  other  side,  shall  man 
affirm  that  he  possesses  the  truth  with  certainty,  who, 
if  you  press  him  ever  so  little,  can  bring  no  proof  of 
the  fact,  and  is  forced  to  loose  his  hold  ? 

Who  shall  clear  up  this  perplexity  ?  Common  sense 
confutes  the  Pyrrhonists,  and  reason  ^the  Dogmatists. 
What  then  musFTjecome  of  thee,  O  manT'wbo'search- 
est  out  thy  true  condition,  by  the  aid  of  natural  rea- 
son? You  cannot  avoid  adopting  one  of  these  opin- 
ions ;  but  to  maintain  either,  is  impossible. 

Such  is  mdn  in  regard  to  truth.  Consider  him  now 
with  respect  to  that  happiness,  which  in  all  his  actions 
he  seeks  with  so  much  avidity  ;  for  all  men,  without 
exception,  desire  to  be  happy.  However  cifferenTThe" 
means  which  they  adopt,  they  aim  at  the  same  result. 
The  cause  of  one  man  engaging  in  war,  and  of  anoth- 
er remaining  at  home,  is  this  same  desire  of  happiness, 
associated  with  different  predilections.  He  will  never 
stir  a  step  but  towards  this  desired  object.  It  is  the 
motive  of  all  tbe  actions  of  all  men,  even  of  those  who 
destroy  themselves. 

And^^et,  after  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  no  one 
has  ever  attained  to  this  point  at  which  we  are  all 
aiming,  but  by  laith.  All  are  ^mhjtppy :  princes  and 
tlTeir  subjects,  noble  and  ignoble,  the  old  and  the 
young,  the  strong  and  the  weak,  the  learned  and  the 


C0^"TRARIETIE5  IN    MAX.  99 

ignorant,  the  sick  and  the  healthy  of  all  countries,  all 
times,  all  ages,  and  all  conditions. 

Experience  so  lengthened,  so  continual,  and  so  uni- 
form, might  well  convince  us  of  our  inability  to  be 
happy  by  our  own  efforts.  But  then  here  we  get  no 
profit  from  example.  It  is  never  so  precisely  similar, 
but  that  there  is  some  slight  difference,  on  the 
strength  of  which,  we  calculate  that  our  hope  shall 
not  be  disappointed,  in  this  as  in  former  instances. 
And  thus  while  the  present  never  satisfies  us,  hope  al- 
lures us  onward,  and  leads  us  from  misfortune  to  mis- 
fortune, and  finally  to  death  and  everlasting  ruin. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  in  the  whole  range  of  nature, 
there  is  nothing  that  has  not  been  accounted  fit  to  be- 
come the  chief  end  and  happiness  of  man.  The  stars, 
the  elements,  plants,  animals,  insects,  diseases,  wars^ 
vices,  crimes,  &,c.  Man  having  fallen  from  his  origi- 
nal and  natural  state,  there  is  nothing  however  mean 
on  which  he  does  not  fix  his  vagrant  affections.  Since 
he  lost  that  which  is  really  good,  any  thing  can  as- 
sume the  semblance  of  it,  even  self-destruction,  though 
it  is  so  manifestly  contrary  at  once  both  to  reason 
and  to  nature. 

Some  have  sought  happiness  in  power;  some  in 
science  or  in  curious  research  ;  and  some  in  voluptu- 
ous pleasure.  These  three  propensities  have  given 
rise  to  three  sects ;  and  they  who  are  called  philosor 
phers,  have  merely  followed  one  or  other  of  them. 
Those  who  have  come  nearest,  to  happiness  have 
thought,  that  the  universal  good  which  all  men  desire, 
and  in  which  all  should  share,  cannot  be  any  one  par- 
ticular thing,  which  one  only  can  possess,  and  which  if 
it  be,  divided,  ministers  more  sorrow  to  its  possessor,  on 
accouuj^of  that  which  he  has  not,  than  pleasure  in  the 
enjoy^^^  of  that  which  he  has.  They  conceived 
that  the  true  good  must  be  such  that  all  may  enjoy  it  at 
once,  without  imperfection  and  without  envy;  and 
that  no  one  could  lose  it  against  his  will.  They  have 
rightly  understood  the  blessing,  but  they  could  not 
find  it ;  and  instead  of  a  solid  and  practical  good,  they 


JOO  CON'TRAraETIES  IN    MAN. 

have  embraced  its  visionary  semblance,  in  an  unreal 
and  chimerical  virtue. 

Instinct  tells  us,  that  we  must  seek  our  happiness 
within  ourselves.  Our  passfons  drive  us  forth  to  seek 
it  in  thing's  external,  even  when  those  things  are  not 
actually  present  to  minister  excitement.  External 
objects  are  themselves  also  our  tempters,  and  entice  us 
even  when  we  are  not  aware.  The  philosophers  then 
will  but  vainly  say, "  Be  occupied  with  3^ourselves,  for 
there  you  Avill  find  your  happiness."  Few  believe 
them  ;  and  the  few  who  do,  are  more  empty  and  fool- 
ish than  any.  For  can  any  thing-  be  more  contemptible 
and  silly,  than  what  the  Stoics  call  happiness?  or  more 
false  than  all  their  reasonings  on  the  subject.? 

They  aflirm  that  man  can  do  at  all  times  what  he 
has  done  once ;  and  that  since  the  love  of  fame 
prompts  its  possessor  to  do  some  things  well,  others 
may  do  the  same.  But  those  actions  are  the  result  of 
feverish  excitement,  which  health  cannot  imitate. 

2.  The  intestine  war  of  reason  against  the  passions, 
has  given  rise,  among  those  who  wish  for  peace,  to  the 
formation  of  two  different  sects.  .  The  one  wished  to 
renounce  the  passions  and  to  be  as  Gods  ;  ,the  other  to 
renounce  their  reason,  and  become  beasts.  But  nei- 
ther has  succeeded ;  and  reason  still  remains,  to  point 
out  the  baseness  and  moral  jiravitj^  of  the  passions, 
which  are  still  vigorously  in  action  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  aim  to  renounce  them., 

3.  This  then  is  all  that  man  can  do  in  his  own 
strength  with  regard  to  truth  and  happiness.  We  have 
a  powerlessness  for  determining  truth,  which  no  dog- 
matism can  overcome  :  we  have  a  vague  notion  of 
truth,  which  no  Pyrrhonism  can  destroy.  We  wish 
for  truth,  and  find  within  only  uncertainty.  We  seek 
for  happiness,  and  find  nothing  but  misery.  "\Yejjaii-. 
not  but  wish  for  truth. and  happiness;  yet_we  are  in- 
r^pi-ihlo  of  attainingr  eithcr._  The  desire  is  lef"t  to  us, 
as  much  to  punish  us,  as  to  shew  us  whence  we  are 
fallen. 

4.  If  man  was  not  made  for  God,  why  is  he  never 


CONTRARIETIES  IN  MAN.  101 

happy  but  in  God  ?  If  man  is  niade  for  God,  wiiy  is  he 
so  contrary  to  God  ? 

5.  Man  knows  not  in  what  rank  of  beings  to  place 
himself.  He  is  manifestly  astray,  and  perceives  in 
himself  the  remnant  indications  of  a  happy  state,  from 
which  he  has  fallen,  and  which  he  cannot  recover. 
He  is  ever  seeking  it,  with  restless  anxiety,  without 
success,  and  in  impenetrable  darkness.  This  is  the 
source  of  all  the  contests  of  the  philosophers.  One 
class  has  undertaken  to  elevate  man  by  displaying  his 
greatness ;  the  other  to  abase  him  by  the  exhibition 
of  his  wretchedness.  And  what  is  most  extraordinary 
is,  that  each  party  makes  use  of  the  reasonings  of  the 
other  to  establish  its  own  opinions.  For  the  misery  of 
man  is  inferrible  from  his  greatness,  and  his  greatness 
from  his  misery.  And  thus  the  one  class  has  more  ef- 
fectually proved  his  misery,  because  they  deduced  it 
from  his  greatness  ;  and  the  other  established  much 
more  powerfully  the  fact  of  his  greatness,  because 
they  proved  it  even  from  misery.  All  that  the  one 
could  say  of  his  greatness,  served  but  as  an  argument 
to  the  other,  to  prove  his  misery;  inasmuch  as  the 
misery  of  having  fallen,  is  aggravated  in  proportion  as 
the  point  from  which  we  fell  is  shown  to  be  more  el- 
evated ;  and  vice  versa.  Thus  they  have  outgone  each 
other  successively,  in  an  eternal  circle  ;  it  being  cer- 
tain, that  as  men  increased  in  illumination,  they  would 
multiply  proofs,  both  of  their  greatness  and  their  mis- 
ery. In  short,  man  knows  that  he  is  wretched.  He 
is  wretched,  because  he  knows,  it.  Yet  in  this  he  is 
evidently  great,  that  he  knows  himself  to  be  wretched. 
What  a  chimera  then  is  man.  What  a  singular  phe- 
nomenon !  What  a  chaos  !  "YY  hat  a  scene  of  contrarie- 
■  ty !  A  judge  of  all  things,  yet  a  feeble  worm ;  the 
shrine  of  truth,  yet  admass  prrlopb^'  and^inrrpH^ajnt^^ 
afonce  the  glory  and  the  scorn  of  the  universe!  If"  he 
boasts^Tlower  liimTir  he  lowers  himself,  I  raise  him ; 
either  way  I  contradict  him,  till  he  learns  that  he  is^^^ 
monstrous  incomprehensible  mystery, 

8* 


102  INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION. 

CHAPTER.  YI. 

qy  AVOWED  INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION. 

It  were  to  be  wished,  that  the  enemies  of  religion 
would  at  least  learn  what  religion  is,  before  they  op- 
pose it.  If  religion  boasted  of  the  unclouded  vision  of 
God,  and  of  disclosing  him  without  a  covering  or  veil, 
then  it  were  victory  to  ^ay  that  nothing  in  the  world 
discovers  him  with  such  evidence.  But  since  religion, 
on  the  contrary,  teaches  that  men  are  in  darkness,  and 
far  from  God ;  that  he  is  hidden  from  them,,  and  that 
th^  very  name  which  he  gives  himself  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, is '' a  God  that  hideth  himself;"  and,  in  fact, 
since  it  labors  to  establish  the  two  maxims,  that  God 
has  placed  in  his  church,  certain  characters  of  himself, 
by  which  he  will  make  himself  known  to  those  who 
sincerely  seek  him  ;  and  3'et  that  he  has,  at  the  same 
time,  so  far  covered  them,  as  to  render  himself  imper- 
ceptible to  those  who  do  not  seek  him  with  their  whole 
heart,  what  advantage  do  men  gain,  that,  in  the  midst 
of  their  criminal  negligence  in  the  search  of  truth, 
they  complain  so  frequently  that  nothing  reveals  and 
displays  it  to  them?  seeing  that  this  very  obscurity 
under  which  they  labor,  and  which  they  thus  bring 
against  the  Christian  church,  does  but  establish  one 
of  the  two  grand  points  which  she  maintains,  without 
affecting  the  other ;  and  instead  of  running,  confirms 
her  doctrines. 

To  contend  with  any  effect,  the  opposers  of  religion 
should  be  able  to  urge,  that  they  have  applied  their  ut- 
most endeavours,  and  have  used  all  the  means  of  infor- 
mation, even  those  which  the  Christian  church  recom- 
mends,'-without  obtaining  satisfaction.  If  they  could  say 
this,  it  were  indeed  to  attack  one  of  her  main  preten- 
sions. But  I  hope  to  shew  that  no  rational  person  can 
affirm  this;  nay,  I  venture    to  assert    that   none   ever 


INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION.  103 

did.  We  know  very  well  how  men  of  this  spirit  are 
wont  to  act.  The}^  conceive  that  they  have  nnade  a 
mighty  effort  towards  the  instruction  of  their  minds, 
when  they  have  spent  a  few  hours  in  reading^  the 
Scriptures,  and  have  put  a  few  questions  to  a  minister 
on  the  articles  of  the  faith.  And  then  they  boast  of 
having  consulted  both  men  and  books  without  success. 
Really  I  cannot  help  telling  such  men,  what  I  have  of- 
ten told  them,  that  this  negligence  is  insufferable. — 
This  is  not  a  question  about  the  petty  interests  of  some 
stranger.     Ourselves  and  our  all  are  involved  in  it. 

The  immortality  of  the  soul  is  a  matter  of  such 
main  importance,  so  profoundly  interesting  to  us,  that 
we  must  be  utterly  dead  to  every  good  feeling,  if  we 
could  be  indifferent  about  it.  And  all  our  actions  and 
thoughts  would  take  so  different  a  course,  according 
as  we  have  or  have  not  the  hope  of  eternal  blessings, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  take  one  step  discreetly, 
but  as  we  keep  this  point  ever  in  view,  as  our  main 
and  ultimate  object. 

It  is,  then,  both  our  highest  interest,  and  our  first 
duty,  to  get  light  on  this  subject,  on  which  our  whole 
conduct  depends.  And  here,  therefore,  in  speaking  of 
those  who  are  sceptical  on  this  point,  I  make  a  wide 
distinction  between  those  who  labor  with  all  their 
power  to  obtain  instruction,  and  those  who  live  on  in 
indolence,,  without  caring  to  make  any  inquiry.  I  do 
heartily  pity  those  who  sincerely  mourn  over  their 
scepticism,  who  look  upon  it  as  the  greatest  of  misior- 
tunes,  and  who  spare  no  pains  to  escape  from  it,  but 
who  make  these  researches  their  chief  and  most  seri- 
ous emplo}^  But  as  for  those  who  pass  their  life 
without  reflecting  on  its  close  ;  and  who,  merely  be- 
cause they  find  not  in  themselves  a  convincing  testi- 
mony, refuse  to  seek  it  elsewhere,  and  to  examine 
thoroughl}^,  whether  the  opinion  proposed  be  such  as 
nothing  but  a  credulous  simplicity  receives,  or  such  as, 
though  obscure  in  itself,  is  yet  founded  on  a  solid  ba- 
sis, I  regard  them  very  differently.  The  carelessness 
which  they  betray  in  a  matter  which  involves  their 


104  IN' DIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION- 

existence,  their  eternity,  their  all,  awakes  my  indig- 
nation, rather  than  my  pity.  It  is  astonishing.  It  is 
horrifying.  It  is  monstrous.  I  speak  not  this  from 
the  pious  zeal  of  a  blind  devotion.  On  the  contrary, 
I  affirm  that  self-love,  that  self-interest,  that  the  sim- 
plest light  of  reason,  should  inspire  these  sentiments; 
and,  in  fact,  for  this  we  need  but  the  perceptions  of 
ordinary  men. 

It  requires  but  little  elevation  of  soul  to  discover, 
that  here  there  is  no  substantial  delight  ;  that  our 
pleasures  are  but  vanity,  that  the  ills  ot  life  are  innu- 
merable ;  and  that,  after  all,  death,  which  threatens  us 
every  moment,  must,  in  a  few  years,  perhaps  in  a  few 
days,  place  us  in  the  eternal  condition  of  happiness, 
or  misery,  or  nothingness.  Bet-yveen  us  and  heaven, 
hell  or  annijiilaiion,  no  barrier  is  interposed  b_uFliife, 
\vhicli  is  of  all  thino-s_the  most  lragile']^nd  as  they 
who  doubt_jQi^_ijimiortality  of  the  soul  can  have  no_^ 
Hope  of  heavenT  they  can  have  no'pro'spect  but  hell 
or  nonenlltyr  "^ 

"^  NoHiing  can  be  more  true  than  this,  and  nothing 
more  terrible.  Brave  it  how  we  will,  there  ends  the 
goodliest  life  on  earth. 

It  is  in  vain  for  men  to  turn  aside  from  this  coming 
eternity,  as  if  a  bold  indifference  could  destroy  its  be- 
ing. It  subsists  notwithstanding.  It  hastens  on  ;  and 
death,  which  must  soon  unveil  it,  will,  in  a  short  time, 
infallibly  reduce  them  to  the  dreadful  necessity  of  be- 
ing annihilated  for  ever,  or  for  ever  wretched. 

Here  then  is  a  doubt  of  the  most  alarming  impor- 
tance ;  to  feel  this  doubt  is  already,  in  itself,  a  serious 
evil.  But  that  doubt  imposes  on  us  the  indispensable 
duty  of  inquiry. 

He^  then,  who  doubts,  and  }^etjicgledsinquiry,  is 
botli  uncandid~and~unhappy.  Bul_iG  notwithstanding 
his  doubts^  he  is'^alm  and  contented ;  if  he  freely 
avows  his  ignorance  ;  nay,  ij[.hc  makes  it  jiis  boastj_ 
alid  seemsTo  "make' this  very  indifference  the  subject 
of  his  joy  and  triumph,  iio_55^ords^aria^e^uate]y^ 
scribe  his  extravagant  iafatuation.  ^| 


L\DIFFERE-\CE  TO  RELIGION.  105 

Where  do  men  get  these  opinions  ?  What  delight  is 
there  in  expecting  misery  without  an  end  ?  What 
ground  is  there  for  boasting  in  the  experience  of 
nothing  but  impenetrable  darkness  ?  Or  what  consola- 
tion in  despairing  for  ever  of  a  comforter  ? 

Acquiescence  in  such  ignorance  is  monstrous,  and 
they  who  thus  linger  on  through  life,  should  be  made 
sensible  of  its  absurdity  and  stupidity,  by  shewing 
them  what  passes  in  their  own  breasts,  so  as  to  con- 
found them  by  a  sight  of  their  own  folly.  For  men 
who  thus  choose  to  remain  ignorant  of  what  they  are, 
and  who  seek  no  rheans  of  illumination,  reason  in  this 
way:— 

"  I  know^  not  who  has  sent  me  into  the  world,  nor 
what  the  world  is,  nor  what  I  am  myself  I  am  aw- 
full}^  ignorant  of  all  things.  I  know  not  what  my  body 
is,  what  my  senses  are,  or  what  my  soul  is.  -This  very 
part  of  me  which  thinks  what  1  now  speak,  which  re-- 
fleets  upon  all  other  things,  and  even  npon  itself,  is 
equallj'  a  stranger  to  itself,  and  to  all  around  it.  I 
look  through  the  vast  and  terrific  expanse  of  the  uni- 
verse b}^  which  I  am  encompassed  ;  and  I  find  myself 
chained  to  one  petty  corner  of  the  wide  domain  ;  with- 
out understanding  why  I  am  fixed  in  this  spot,  rather 
than  in  any  other  ;  or  why  this  little  hour  of  life  was 
assigned  me  at  this  point,  rather  than  at  any  other  of 
all  that  eternity  which  was  before  me,  or  of  all  that 
which  is  to  come.  On  every  side  I  see  nothing  but  in- 
finities, which  enfathom  me  in  their  abysses  as  a 
mere  atom,  or  as  a  shadow  which  lingers  but  a  single 
instant,  and  is  never  to  return.  All  that  I  know  is, 
that  I  m.ust  shortly  die  ;  and  that  of  which  I  know  the 
least,  is  this  very  death,  from  which  I  cannot  fly, 

"  As  I  know  not  whence  I  came,  so  I  know  not 
whither  I  go.  This  only  I  know,  that  when  I  leave 
this  world,  I  must  either  fall  forever  into  nothingness, 
or  into  the  hands  of  an  incensed  God  ;  but  I  know  not 
to  which  of  these  two  conditions  I  shall  be  eternally 
doomed 


106  INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION. 

"Such  is  my  state;  full  of  misery,  of  imbecility,  of 
darkness.  And  from  all  this,  I  argue  that  it  becomes 
me  to  pass  all  the  days  of  my  life,  without  consider- 
ing what  shall  hereafter  befal  me ;  and  that  I  have 
nothing  to  do,  but  to  follow  the  bent  of  my  inclinations, 
without  reflection  or  disquiet,  and  if  there  be  an  eter- 
nity of  misery,  to  do  my  utmost  to  secure  it.  Perhaps 
inquiry  might  throw  some  light  upon  my  doubts  ;  but 
I  will  not  take  the  pains  to  make  it,  nor  stir  one  foot 
to  find  the  truth.  On  the  contrary,  while  I  shew  my 
contempt  for  those  who  annoy  themselves  by  this  in- 
quiry, I  wish  to  rush  without  fear  or  foresight  upon 
the  risk  of  this  dread  contingency.  I  will  suffer  myself 
to  be  led  imperceptibly  on  to  death,  in  utter  uncer- 
tainty as  to  the  issue  of  my  future  lot  in  eternity." 

Verily,  religion  may  glory  in  having  for  its  enemies, 
men  so  irrational  as  these  ;  their  opposition  is  so  little 
to  be  dreaded,  that  it  serves,  in  fact,  to  illustrate  the 
main  truths  which  our  religion  teaches.  For  our  re- 
ligious system  aims  chiefly  to  establish  these  two  prin- 
ciples,— the  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  redemp- 
tion by  Jesus  Christ.  Nov/,  if  these  opposers  are  of 
no  use  in  confirming  the  truth  of  redemption,  by  the 
'Sanctity  of  their  lives  ;  yet  they  admirably  prove  the 
corruption  of  nature,  by  the  maintenance  of  such  un- 
natural opinions. 

Nothing  is  so  important  to  any  man  as  his  own  con- 
dition ;  nothing,  so  formidable  as  eternity.  They, 
therefore,  who  are  indifferent  to  the  loss  of  their  being 
and  to  the  risk  of  endless  misery,  are  in  an  unnatural 
state:  They  act  quite  differently  from  this  in  all  oth- 
er matters ;  they  fear  the  smallest  inconveniences ; 
they  anticipate  them  ;  they  feel  them  when  they  ar- 
rive ;  and  he  who  passes  days  and  nights  in  indignation 
and  despair,  at  the  loss  of  an  employment,  or  for  some 
fancied  blemish  on  his  honor,  is  the  very  same  man 
who  knows  that  he  must  soon  lose  all  by  death,  and 
^et  continues  satisfied,  fearless,  and  unmoved.  Such 
an  insensibility  to  things  of  the  most  tremendous  con- 
sequences, in  a  heart  so  keenly  alive    to   the   merest 


INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION.  107 

trifles,  is  an  astonishing  prodigy,   an  incomprehensible 
enchantment,,  a  supernatural  infatuation. 

A  man  in  a  dungeon,  who  knows  not  if  the  sentence 
of  death  has  gone  forth  against  him,  w^hb  has  but  one 
hour  to  ascertain  the  fa<:t,  and  that  one  hour  sufficient 
if  he  knows  that  it  is  granted,  to  secure  its  revocation, 
acts  contrary  to  nature  and  to  common  sense,  if  he 
employs  that  hour,  not  in  the  needful  inquiry,  but  in 
sport  and  trifling.  Now,  this  is  the  condition  of  the 
persons  whom  w^e  are  describing  ;  only  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  the  evils  with  which  they  are  everj^  mo- 
ment threatened,  do  infinitely  surpass  the  mere  loss  of 
this  life,  and  that  transient  punishment  which  the  pris- 
oner has  to  dread.  Yet  they  run  thoughtlessly  onward 
to  the  precipice,  having  only  cast  a  veil  over  their 
eyes  to  hinder  them  from  discerning  it ;  and  then,  in 
a  dreadful  security,  they  mock  at  those  who  w^arn 
them  of  their  danger. 

Thus  not  only  does  the  zeal  of  those  who  seek  God, 
demonstrate  the  truth  of  religion,  but  even  the  blind- 
ness of  those,  who  seek  him  not,  and  who  pass  their 
days  in  this  criminal  neglect.  Human  nature  must 
have  experienced  a  dreadful  revolution,  before  men 
could  live  contentedly  in  this  state,  much  more  before 
they  could  boast  of  it  For  supposing  that  they  were 
absolutely  certain,  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear  after 
death,  but  annihilation,  is  not  this  a  cause  rather  for 
despair,  than  for  gratulation.  But  seeing  that  we 
have  not  this  assurance,  then  is  it  not  inconceivably 
silly  to  boast  because  we  are-  in  doubt  ? 

And  yet,  after  all,  it  is  too  evident,  that  man.  is  in 
his  nature  so  debased,  as  to  nourish  in  his  heart  a  se- 
cret joy  on  this  account.  This  brutal  insensibility  to 
the  risk  of  hell  or  ofannihilation,  is  thought  so  noble, 
that  not  only  do  those  who  really  are  sceptically  in- 
clined, make  their  boast  of  it,  but  even  those  who  are 
not,  are  proud  to  counterfeit  a  doubt.  For  experience 
proves,  that  the  greater  part  of  these  men  are  of  this 
latter  kind,  mere  pretenders  to  Infidelity,  and  hypo- 
crites in  Atheism.     They  have  been  told  that  the  spir- 


108  INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION. 

it  of  high  life  consists  in  rising  above  these  vulgar 
prejudices.  They  call  this  throwing  off  the'  yoke  of 
bondage  ;  and  most  men  do  this,  not  from  conviction, 
but  from  the  mere  servile  principle  of  imitation. 

Yet  if  they  have  but  a  particle  of  common  sense  re- 
maining, it  will  not  be  difficult  to  make  them  compre- 
hend, how  miserably  they  abuse  themselves  by  seeking 
credit  in  such  a  course.  For  this  is  not  the  way  to 
obtain  respect,  even  with  men  of  the  world ;  for  they 
judge  accurately,  and  know  that  the  only  sure  way  to 
succeed  in  obtaining  regard,  is  to  approve  ourselves 
honest,  faithful,  prudent,  and  capable  of  advancing  the 
interest  of  our  friends  ;  because  men  naturally  love 
none  but  those  who  can  contribute  to  their  welfare. 
But  now  what  can  we  gain  by  hearing  any  man  con- 
fess that  he  has  thrown  off  the  yoke;  that  he  does  not 
believe  in  God,  who  watches  over  his  conduct ;  that 
he  considers  himself  as  the  absolute  master  of  his 
own  actions,  and  accountable  for  them  only  to  himself. 
Will  he  imagine  that  we  shall  not  repose  in  him  a 
greater  degree  of  confidence  tljan  before,  and  that 
henceforth  we  shall  look  to  him  for  comfort,  advice 
or  assistance  in  the  vicissitudes  of  life?  Does  he 
think  that  wc  are  delighted  to  hear  that  he  doubts 
whether  our  very  soul  be  any  thing  more  than  a  breath 
or  vapor,  and  that  he  can  tell  it  us  with  an  air  of  as- 
surance and  self-sufhciency  ?  Is  this  then  the  topic  for 
a  jest  ?  Should  it  not  rather  be  told  with  tears,  as  the 
saddest  of  all  sorrowful  things  ? 

If  they  thought  seriousl}^,  they  would  see  that  this 
conduct  is  so  contrary  to  sound  sense,  to  virtuous  prin- 
ciple, and  to  good  taste,  and  so  widely  removed  from 
the  reality  of  that  elevation  to  which  they  pretend, 
that  nothing  can  more  effectually  expose  them  to  the 
contempt  and  aversion  of  mankind,  or  more  evidently 
mark  them  for  weakness  of  intellect,  or  want  of  judg- 
ment. And  indeed,  should  we  require  of  them  an  ac- 
count of  their  sentiments,  and  of  their  doubts  on  the 
subject  of  religion,  their  statements  would  be  found  so 
miserably  weak  and   trifling,    as  to    confirm,    rather 


INDIFFERENCE  TO  RELIGION.  109 

than  shake  our  conlidence.  This^was  once  very  aptly 
remarked  b\^  one  of  their  own  numbe>,  in  answer  to 
an  infidel  arjrument :  "  Positively  if"  you  continue  to 
dispute  at  this  rate,  you  will  actually  make  me  a 
Christian. "  And  he  was  rig-ht ;  for  who  would  not 
tremble  to  find  himself  associated  in  his  opinions  and 
his  lot  with  men  so  truly  despicable  ? 

Thej' also  who  do  no  more  than  pretend  to  hold 
these  sentiments,  are  truly  pitiable  ;  for  by  the  as- 
sumption of  an  insincere  infidelit}'',  they  actually  con- 
trol their  better  natural  tendencies,  only  to  make  them- 
selves of  all  men  the  most  inconsistent.  If  froni  their 
inmost  heart  they  regret  that  they  have  not  more 
light,  vvhy  do  they  not  confess  it?  Such  a  confession 
would  be  no  disgrace;  for  there  is  really  no  shame, 
butin  shamelessness.  Nothing  more  completely  be- 
trays a  weak  mind,  than  insensibility  to  the  fact  of  the 
misery  of  man,  while  living  without  God  in  the  world. 
Nothing  more  stronglj^  indicates  extreme  degradation 
of  spirit,  than  not  to  wish  for  the  truth  of  God's  eter- 
nal promises.  No  man  is  so  base  as  he  that  defies 
his  God.  Let  them  therefore  leave  those  impieties  to 
those  who  are  vile  and  wretched  enough  to  be  in  ear- 
nest. If  they  cannot  be  completely  Christians,  at  least 
let  them  be  honest  men  ;  and  let  them  at  length  admit 
the  fact,  that  there  are  but  two  classes  of  men,  who 
may  be  called  truly  rational : — those  who  serve  God 
with  all  their  heart,  because  they  know  him;  and 
those  w^ho  seek  him  with  all  their  heart,  because  as 
yet  they  know  him  not. 

If  there  be  any  who  sincerely  inquire  after  God, 
and  who,  being  truly  sensible  of  their  misery,  affect- 
ionately desire  to  emerge  from  it;  for  these  we  ought 
to  labor,  that  we  may  lead  them  to  the  discovery  of 
that  light  which  they  have  notj^et  discovered. 

But  as  for  those  who  live  without  either  knovdng 
God  or  endeavoring  to  know  him,  they  count  them.- 
selves  so  little  worthy  of  their  own  care,  that  they 
can  hardly  deserve  the  care  of  others:  and  it  requires 
all  the  charity  of  the  religion  v.'hich  they  despise,  not 
9     . 


110  ON  THE  BELIEF  OF  A  GOD. 

to  despise  them  so  far  as  to  abandon  them  to  their 
folly^  But  since' our  religion  obliges  us,  to  consider 
them,  while  they  remain  in  this  lite,  as  still  capable 
of  receiving  God''s  enlightening  grace,  and  to  believe 
that  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  they  may  possess  a 
more  realizing  faith  than  ourselves  ;  and  that  we,  on 
the  other  side,  may  become  as  blind  as  they;  we 
ought  to  do  for  them  what  we  would  wish  them  to  do 
for  us,  if  we  were  in  their  circumstances  ;  we  should 
intreat  them  to  take  pity  on  themselves,  at  least  to 
take  some  step-  forward,  and  try  if  they  maj^  not  3'et 
find  the  light.  Let  them  give  to  the  reading  of  this 
work,  a  few  of  those  hours  which  they  would  other- 
wise spend  more  unprohtably.  Something  they  may 
gain  :  they  can  lose  but  little.  But  if  any  shall  bring 
to  this  work,  a  perfect  sincerity,  and  an  unfeigned  de- 
sire of  kiiowing  truth,  I  would  hope  that  they  will 
find  comfort  in  it,  and  be  convinced  by  those  proofs  of 
our  divine  religion,  which  are  here  accumulated. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THAT  THF  BELIEF  OF  A  GOD  IS  THE  TRUE  -UISBOJM. 

A.  Let  us  speak  according  to  the  light  oAature.  If  ^ 
there  is  a  God,  he  is  to  us  infinitely  incomprehensible  ; 
because  having  neither  parts  nor  limits,  there  is  no 
affinity  or  resemblance  between  him  and  U3.  We  are 
then,  incapable  of  comprehending  his  nature,  or  even 
knowing  his  existence.  And  under  these  circumstanc- 
es, who  wiU  dare  to  undertake  the  solving  of  this 
question?  Certainly  not  we  who  have  no  point  of  as- 
similation with  him. 

B.  I  will  not  undertake  here  to  prove  by  natural 
reason,  either  the  existence  of  God,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  or  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  nor  any  other 
point  of  this  kind:  not  only  that  I  do  not  feel  myself 
strong  enough  to  bring  forth   from    the    resources    of 


ON  THE  BELIEF  OF    A  GOD.  Ill 

weak  reason,  proofs  that  would  convince  a  hardened 
Atheist;  hut  that  this  knowledg-e  ifgained  without  the 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  were  equally  barren  and  useless. 
Suppose  a  man  to  become  convinced  that  the  propor- 
tions of  numbers  are  truths  immaterial,*  and  eternal, 
and  dependant  on  one  first  truth,  on  which  they  sub- 
sist, and  which  is  called  God  :  I  do  not  find  that 
man  advanced  one  step  further  toward  his  own  salva- 
tion. 

A.  It  is  surprising  that  no  canonical  writer  has  made 
use  of  nature  to  prove  the  existence  of  God.  They 
all  tend  to  establish  the  belief  of  this  truth  ;  yet  they 
have  not  said,  there  is  no  void,  then  there  is  a  God; 
it  follows,  then,  that  they  were  more  intelligent  than 
the  ablest  of  those  who  have  come  after  them,  who 
have  all  had  recourse  to  this  method. 

B.  If  it  is  a  proof  of  weakness  to  prove  the  existence 
of  God  from  nature,  then  do  not  despise  the  Scripture; 
if  it  is  a  proof  of  wisdom  to  discern  the  contrauictions 
of  nature,  then  venerate  this  in  the  Scripture. 

A.  Unity  added  to  infinity  does  not  augment  it,  any 
more  than  another  foot  does  a  line  ,of  infinite  length. 
What  is  finite  is  lost  in  that  which  is  infinite,  and 
shrinks  to  nothing.  So  does  our  mind  in  respect  to 
the  mind  of  God,  and  our  righteousness  when  compar- 
ed with  his.  The  diiierence  between  unity  and  infin- 
ity is  not  so  great,  as  that  between  our  righteousness 
and  the  righteousness  of  God. 

B.  We  know  that  there  is  an  infinite,  but  we  know 
not  its  nature.  For  instance,  we  know  that  it  is  false 
that  number  is  finite.  Then  it  is  true  that  there  is  an 
infinity  in  number;  but  what  that  infinity  is,  we  know 
not.  It  cannot  be  equal  or  unequal,  for  the  addition 
of  unity  to  infinity  does  not  change  its  nature  ;  yet  it 
is  a  number,  and  every  number  is  equal  or  unequal; 
this  is  the  case  with  all  finite  numbers.  In  the  same 
\^  ay,  we  may  know  that  there  is  a  God,  without  know 


*Exi3tuig  independent  of  matter. 


112  ON  THE  BELIEF  OF  A  GOD. 

ing  what  be  is ;  and  we  ought  not  to  conclude  that 
God  is  not,  because  we  cannot  perfectly  comprehend 
his  nature. 

To  convince  you  of  the  being  of  a  God,  I  shall  nnake 
no  use  ofthe  faith  by  which  we  know  him  assuredly, 
nor  of  any  other  proofs  with  which  we  are  satisfied, 
because  you  will  not  receive  them.  I  will  only  treat 
with  you  upon  your  own  principles,  and  I  expect  to 
show  you,  by  the  mode  in  which  you  reason  daily,  in 
matters  of  small  importance,  how  you  should  reason  in 
this  ;  and  what  side  you  should  take  in  decision  of  this 
important  question  of  the  being  of  a  God,  You  say 
that  we  cannot  discover  whether  there  be  a  God  or 
not.  This  however  is  certain,  either  that  God  is,  or 
that  God  is  not.  There  is  no  medium  point  between 
these  two  alternatives.  But  which  side  shall  we  take  ? 
Reason,  you  say,  cannot  decide  at  all.  There  is  an 
infinite  chaos  between  us  and  the  point  in  question. 
We  play  a  game  at  an  infinite  distance,  ignorant  wheth- 
er the  coin  we  tlvrow  shall  fall  cross  or  pile.  How 
then  can  we  wager?  By  reasoning  we  cannot  make 
sure  that  it  is  one  or  the  other.  By  reasoning  we  can- 
not deny  that  it  is  one  or  the  other. 

Do  not  then  charge  with  falsehood  those  who  have 
taken  a  side,  for  3^ou  know  not  that  they  are  wrongs 
and  that  they  have  chosen  ill. 

A.  No,  I  do  not  blame  them  for  making  this  choice, 
but  for  making  any  choice  whatever.  To  take  a  r's'c 
on  either  alternative,  is  equally  wrong :  the  wise 
course  is  not  to  choose  at  all. 

B.  But  you  must  wager ;  this  is  not  a  matter  of  choice. 
You  are  inevitably  committed ;  and  not  to  wager  that 
God  is,  is  to  wager  that  he  is  not.  Which  side  then 
do  you  take  ?  Let  us  see  in  which  you  are  least  inter- 
ested. You  have  two  things  to  lose,  truth  and  right; 
and  two  things  to  ])lay  with,  your  reason  and  your 
will — your  knowledge  and  your  happiness.  And  your 
nature  has  two  things  to  shun,  error  and  misery.  Take 
your  side,  then,  without  hesitaiion,  that  God  is.  Your 
reason  is  not  more  annoyed  in  choosing  one,  than    the 


ON  THE  BELIEF  OF  A    GOD.  113 

other,  since  you  cannot  but  choose  one.  Here  then  is 
one  point  settled.  But  now  of  your  happiness  ?  Bal- 
ance the  gain  and  the  loss  there.  Upon  taking  the 
risk  that  God  is,  if  3^ou  win,  you  win  every  thing. — 
it  3'ou  lose,  you  lose  nothing.     Believe  then  if  you  can. 

A.  Well,  I  see  I  must  wager ;  but  I  may  risk  too  much. 

B.  Let  us  see. 

Where  there  is  equal  risk  of  loss  or  gain,  if  you 
have  but  two  lives  to  gain,  and  but  one  to  lose,  you 
may  venture  safely.  If  again  there  were  ten  lives  to 
gain,  and  the  chances  equal,  then  it  were  actually  im- 
prudent not  to  risk  your  one  life  to  gain  the  ten.  But 
in  this  case  where  you  have  with  equal  chance  of  gain 
or  loss,  an  infinity  of  lives,  infinitely  happy,  to  gain  ; 
and  where  the  stake  which  3'ou  play,  is  a  thing  so 
trifling  and  transient,  to  hesitate  from  a  false  prefer- 
ence to  it,  is  absolute  folly. 

For  it  answers  no  purpose  to  allege  the  uncertainty 
of  winning,  and  the  certainty  of  the  risk;  or  to  say 
that  the  infinity  distance  between  the  certainty  of  that 
which  we  hazard,  and  the  uncertainty  of  that  which 
we  may  gain,  raises  the  value  of  the  finite  good  which 
we  stake,  to  an  equality  with  the  infinite  good  which 
is  uncertain:  for  this  is  notthe  case.  He  who  plays, 
must  risk  a  certainty  for  an  .uncertainty  ;  and  though 
he  risks  a  finite  certainty  for  a  finite  uncertainty,  it 
can  be  shewn  he  does  not  act  foolishl}^  It  is  false 
that  there  is  an  infinite  distance  between  the  certainty 
we  hazard,  and  the  uncertainty  of  winning.  Though 
it  is  true  that  there  is  an  infinite  distance  between  the 
certainty  of  gaining  and  the  certainty  of  losing.  But 
the  uncertainty  of  winning  is  in  proportion  to  the  cer- 
tainty which  is  hazarded,  according  to  the  proportion 
of  the  chances  of  gain  or  loss.  And  hence  it  follows, 
that  if  the  risks  be  equal  on  both  sides,  then  the 
match  to  b^  played  is  equal  against  equal;  and  then 
the  certainty  of  that  which  is  hazarded,  is  equal  to  the 
uncertainty  of  winning ;  so  far  is  it  from  being  infi- 
nitely distant.  And  thus  our  proposition  is  of  infinite 
force,  since  we  have  but  that  which  is  finite  to  haz- 
9* 


il4  ON  THE    BELIEF    OF  A  GOD. 

ard,  and  that  which  is  infinite  to  gain,  in  a  play  where 
the  chances  of  gain  or, loss  are  equal.  This  is  dem- 
onstration, and  if  men  can  discern  truth  at  all,  they 
should  perceive  this. 

A.  I  admit  this  :  but  is  there  no  mode  of  getting  at 
the  principles  of  the  game  ? 

B.  Yes,  by  the  Scriptures,  and  by  the  other  innu- 
merable proofs  of  religion. 

A.  They,  you  will  say,  who  hope  for  salvation,  are 
happy  in  that  hope.  But  is  it  not  counterbalanced  by 
the  fear  of  hell  ? 

B.  But  who  has  most  reason  to  fear  that  hell  ?  He 
who  is  ignorant  that  there  is  a  hell,  and  is  certain  of 
damnation  if  there  is  ;  or  he  who  is  convinced  of  its 
existence,  and  lives  in  the  hope  of  escaping  it  ?  He 
who  had  but  eight  days  to  live,  and  should  conceive 
that  the  wisest  course  for  him  is,  to  believe  that  all 
this  is  a  matter  of  mere  chance,  must  be  totally  de- 
mented. Now,  if  we  were  not  enslaved  by  our  pas- 
sions, eight  days,  or  a  hundred  years  are  precisely  the 
same  thing. 

And  what  harm  will  arise  from  taking  this  side  ? 
You  would  become  faithful,  pure,  humble,  grateful, 
beneficent,  sincere  and  true.  I  grant  that  you  would 
not  be  given  up  to  polluting  pleasures,  to  false  glory, 
or  false  joys.  But  then,  have  you  not  other  pleas- 
ures ?  I  afhrm  that  you  would  be  a  gainer,  even  in 
this  life  ;  and  that  every  step  you  go  forward,  you  will 
see  so  much  of  the  certainty  of  what  you  will  gain, 
and  so  much  of  the  utter  insignificance  of  what  you 
risk,  that  you  will  in  the  end  discover,  that  you  ven- 
tured for  a  good,  both  infinite  and  certain,  and  that  to 
get  it,  3'ou  have  given  nothing. 

A.  But  I  am  so  constituted  that  I  cannot  believe. 
What  then  shall  I  do  ? 

B.  Learn,  at  least,  your  inaptitude  to  believe,  see- 
ing that  reason  suggests  belief,  as  your  wisdom,  and 
yet  you  remain  unbelieving.  Aim,  then,  to  obtain 
conviction,  not  by  any  increase  of  proof  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God,  but  by  the  discipline  and  control  of  your 


ON  THE  BELIEF  OF  A  GOD.  115 

own  passions.  You  wish  to  obtain  faith,  but  you  know 
not  the  way  to  it.  You  wish  to  be  cured  of  intidelity, 
and  you  ask  for  the  remedy.  Learn  it,  then,  from 
those  who  have  been,  what  3^ou  are,  and  who  now 
have  no  doubt.  They  know  the  way  for  which  you 
are  seeking,  and  they  are  healed  of  a  disease  for 
which  you  seek  a  cure.  Follow  their  course,  then, 
from  its  beginning.  Imitate,  at  least,  their  outward 
actions,  and  if  you  cannot  yet  realize  their  internal 
feelings,  quit,  at  ail  event?,  those  vain  pursuits,  in 
which  you  have  been  hitherto  entirely  engrossed. 

Ah,  say  you,  I  could  soon  renounce  these  pleasures, 
if  I  had  faith;  and  I  answer  j'^ou  would  soon  have  faith, 
if  you  would  renounce  those  pleasures.  It  is  for  you 
to  begin.  If  I  could,  I  would  give  you  faith,  but  I 
cannot ;  and  consequently,  I  cannot  prove  the  sinceri- 
ty of  your  assertion ;  but  you  can  abandon  your 
pleasures,  and  thus  make  experiment  of  the  truth  of 
mine. 

A.  This  argument  delights  me. 

B.  If  so,  if  this  argument  pleases  you,  and  appears 
weighty,  know  also  that  it  comes  from  a  man,  who, 
both  before  and  afterwards,  went  on  his  kness  before 
Him  who  is  infinite,  and  without  parts,  and  to  whom 
he  has  himself  entirely  submitted,  with  prayer,  that 
he  would  also  subject  you  to  himself  for  3^our  good, 
and  his  glory  ;  and  that  thus  Omnipotence  might  bless 
his  weakness.* 

We  ought  not  to  misconceive  our  own  nature.  We 
are  body  as  well  as  spirit ;  and  hence  demonstration  is 
not  the  only  channel  of  persuasion.  How  few  things 
are  capable  of  demonstration  !  Such  proof,  too,  only 
convinces  the  understanding :  custom  gives  the  most 
conclusive  proof,  for  it  influences  the    senses,   and   by 


*  In  the  translation  by  Mr.  Craig,  no  part  of  this  Chapter 
appears  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue.  But  there  is  a  very  obvi- 
ous interlocution  between  Pascal  and  an  unbeliever.  I  have 
therefore  seen  fit  to  publish  this  Chapter  according  to  the  plan 
of  a  late  Paris  edition.  A.  E. 


116  jUrks  of  the  true  religion. 

them,  the  judgment  is  carried  along-  without  being 
aware  of  it.  Who  has  proved  the  coming  of  the  morrow, 
or  the  fact  of  our  own  death  ;  And  jet  what  is  more  uni- 
versally believed?  It  is  then  custom  which  persuades 
us.  Custom  makes  so  many  Turks  and  Pagans.  Cus- 
tom makes  artisans  and  soldiers,  &c.  True,  we  must 
not  begin  here  to  search  for  truth,  but  we  may  have 
recourse  to  it  when  we  have  found  out  where  the 
truth  lies,  in  order  to  endue  ourselves  more  thorough- 
ly with  that  bel'ef,  which  otherwise  would  fade.  For 
to  have  the  series  of  proofs  incessantly  before  the 
inind,  is  more  than  we  are  equal  to.  We  must  acquire 
a  more  easy  method  of  belief;  that  of  habit,  which, 
without  violence,  without  art,  and  without  argument, 
inclines  all  our  powers  to  this  belief,  so  that  the  mind 
glides  into  it  naturally.  It  is  not  enough  to  believe 
only  by  the  strength  of  rational  conviction,  while  the 
senses  incline  us  to  believe  the  contrary.  Our  two 
powers  must  go  forth  together ;  the  understanding,  led 
by  those  reasonings  which  it  suffices  to  have  examined 
thoroughly  once  :  the  affections,  by  habit,  which  keeps 
them  perpetually  from  wandering. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

^  MARKS  OP  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

True  religion  shj^ild  he  marked  b^  the  ^obligation 
to  love  God.  _  This  is  essentially  rigTit ;  and  yet  no  re- 
ligionTut  the  Christian^has  everjinjoinedit. 

True  religion  ought  also  to  r^cognize~tHe  depraved 
appetite  of  man,  and  his  utter  inability  to  becon\e  vir- 
tuous by  his  own  endeavors.  It  should  have  pointed 
out  the  proper  remedies  for  this  evil,  of  v-hich  prayer 
is  the  principal.  Our  religion  has  done  all  this;  and 
no  other  has  ever  taught  to  ask  of  God  the  power 
to  love  and  serve  him. 

2.  Another  feature  of  true  religion,   would   be   the 


MARKS  OF  THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  117 

knowledge  of  our  nature.  For  the  true  knowledge  of 
our  nature,  of  its  true  happiness,  of  true  viilue,  and 
true  religion,  are  things  essentially  united.  It  should 
also  recognize  both  the  greatness  andtberneanness 
of  man  ;  together  with  theiFrespective~causes^  What 
l^eiigioTi,  but  the  Christian,  has  ever  exhibited  knowl- 
edge such  "a^  this  T'^ 

3.  Other  religions,  as  the  pagan  idolatries,  are  more 
popular ;  their  main  force  lies  in  external  forms : 
but  then  they  are  ill  suited  to  sensible  men  ;  whilst  a 
religion,  purely  intellectual,  would  be  more  adapted  to 
men  of  sense,  but  it  would  not  do  for  the  multitude. 
Christianity  alone  adapts  itself  to  all.  It  wisely_blends_ 
outward  fojrms,  and  inward  feelings.  It  raises  the"copr- 
moiTpeople^to^abstract  thought ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
almiesjthe  pride  oTllTenmosrlntellecjual,  to  the  per*--' 

^formance  of  olThvarcl  duties  ;  "and  it  is  n^yeFciiinpLLela, 
but  in  the  union  oTTtiese  t^vo  results.  For  it  is  nec- 
essary  that  the  people  understand  the  spirit  of  the 
letten-,  and  that  the  learned  submit  their  spirit  to  the 
letter,  in  the  compliance  with  external  forms. 

4.  Even  reason  teaches  us  that  we  deserve  to  be 
hated;  yet  no  religion,  but  the  Christian,  requires  us 
to  hate  ourselves.  No  other  religion,  therefore,  can 
be  received  by  those  who  know  themselves  to  be 
worthy  of  nothing  but  hatred. 

■  IN"o  other  religion  bjot  the  Christian,  has  admitted 
that  man  is  the  most  excellent  of  all  visible  creatureg:^ 
and,  aj  th^_same  time,  thejmost  miserable.  Some  re- 
ligions which  have  rightly  estimated  man's  real  worth, 
have  censured,  as  mean  and  ungrateful,  the  low  opin- 
ion which  men  naturally  entertain  of  their  own  condi- 
tion. Others,  well  knowing  the  depth  of  his  degrada- 
tion, have  exposed,  as  ridiculously  vain,  those  notions 
of  grandeur  which  are  natural  to  men. 

No  other  religion  but  ours  has  taught  that  man  is 
born  in  sin  :  no  sect  of  philosophers  ever  taught  this  ; 
therefore  no  sect  has  ever  spoken  the  truth. 

5.  God  is  evidently  withdrawn  from  us,  and  every 
religion,    therefore,   which   does    not   teach  this,    is 


118  MARKS  OF  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

f^ilse ;  and  every  relig-ion  which  does  not  teach  the 
reason  of  this,  is  wanting  in  the  most  important  point 
of  instruction.     Our  religion  does  both. 

That  religion,  which  consists  in  the  belief  of  man's 
fall  from  a  state  of  glory  and  communication  with  God, 
into  a  state  of  sorrow,  humiliation,  and  alienation  from 
God,  and  of  his  subsequent  restoration    by  a  Messiah, 
has  always  been  in  the  world.     All  things    else    have 
passed  away,  but  this,  for  which  ail  other  things  exist, 
uoa/ks.^      remains.     For  God,  in  his  wisdom,    designing  to  form 
^oJitd*K^  to  himself  a  hol}'^  people,    whom   he    would   separate 
n  yl  /t*»fc*    from  all  other  nations,    deliver  from  their    enemies, 
Jmu4  Jrip   ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^  place  of  rest,  did  promise  that  he    would 
'     do  this,  and  that  he  would  come  himself  into  the  world 
vv^^    *^     to  doit;  and  did  foretel  by  his  prophets,  the  very  time 
and  manner  of  his   coming-     In    the    mean   while,    to 
'  confirm  the  hope  of  his    elect    through    all    ages,   he 

continually  exhibited  this  aid  to  them  in  types  and  fig- 
ures, and  never  left  them  without  some  evident  assur- 
ances of  his  power  and  willingness  to  save.  For  imme- 
diately after  the  creation,  Adam  was  made  the  witness 
to  his  truth,  and  the  depository  of  the  promise  of  a 
Savior  to  be  born  of  the  seed  of  the  woman.  And 
though  men  at  a  period  so  near  to  their  creation  could 
not  have  altogether  forgotten  their  origin,  their  fall, 
and  the  divine  promise  of  a  Redeemer;  yet  since  the 
world  in  its  very  infancy  was  overrun  with  every  kind 
of  corruption  and  violence,  God  was  pleased  to  raise 
up  holy  men,  as  Enoch,  Lamech,  and  others,  who, 
with  faith  and  patience,  waited  for  that  Saviour  who 
had  been  promised  from  the  beginning  of  the  world. 
At  the  last,  God  sent  Noah,  who  was  permitted  to  ex- 
perience the  malignant  wickedness  of  man  in  its  high- 
est degree  ;  and  then  God  saved  him,  when  he  drown- 
ed the  whole  world,  by  a  miracle,  which  testified,  at 
once,  the  power  of  God  to  save  the  world,  and  his  wil- 
lingness to  do  it,  and  to  raise  up  to  the  woman  the 
seed  which  He  had  promised.  This  miracle,  then, 
sufficed  to  confirm  the  hope  of  mankind  :  and  when  the 
memory  of  it  was  still   fresh  in  their   minds,    God   re- 


MARKS  OF  THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  119 

newecl,his  promises  to  Abraham,  who  dwelt  ia  the 
midst  of  idoUiters,  and  opened  to  him  the  mystery  of 
the  Messiah  that  was  to  come.  In  the  days  of  Isaac 
and  Jacob,  the  idolatrous  abomination  was  spread  over 
the  whole  earth ;  yet  these  holy  men  lived  in  faith, 
and  when  Jacob  on  his  death-bed,  blest  his  children, 
he  exclaimed  with  an  extatic  jo^^,  that  interrupted  his 
prophetic  discourse,  "  I  have  waited  for  thy  salvation, 
O  Lord." 

The  Egyptians  were  a  people  infected  with  idola- 
try and  magic ;  and  even  the  people  of  God  were 
drawn  a^^ide  by  their  example.  Yet  Moses  and  oth- 
ers were  permitted  to  see  him  who  was  to  them  invis- 
ible, and  they  adored  him,  and  had  respect  unto  the 
eternal  blessings,  which  he  was  preparing  for  them. 

The  Greeks  and  Romans  have  bowed  down  to  ficti- 
tious deities.  The  poets  have  invented  different  sys- 
tems of  theology.  Philosophers  have  split  into  a 
thousand  different  sects ;  yet  were  there  always  in  one 
small  spot,  and  that  the  land  of  Judea,  some  chosen 
men  who  foretold  the  coming  of  that  Messiah,  v/hom 
no  one  else  regarded. 

At  length,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  that  Messiah  came; 
and  ever  since,  in, the  midst  of  heresies  and  schisms, 
the  revolution  of  empires,  and  the  perpetueil  change  to 
which  all  other  things  are  subject,  the  same  church 
which  adores  him,  who  has  never  been  without  his 
chosen  v/orshippers,  still  subsists  without  interruption 
or  decay.  And,  v»'hat  must  be  owned  to  be  unparallel- 
ed, wonderful  and  altogether  Divine,  this  religion, 
which  has  ever  continued,  has  subsisted  in  the  face  of 
perpetual  opposition.  A  thousand  times  has  it  been 
on  the  very  verge  of  total  ruin  ;  and  as  often  as  it  has 
been  so  reduced,  God  has  relieved  it,  by  some  extra- 
ordinary interposition  of  his  power.  This  is  a  most 
wonderful  feature  of  its  history,  that  it  should  have 
been  so  maintained,  and  that,  too,  even  without  any 
unconscious  submission  or  compromise  to  the  will  of 
tyrannical  men. 

6.  Civil  states  would  infallibly  perish,  if  their   laws 


120  MARKS  OF  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

did  not  yield  sometimes  to  the  control  of  necessity. 
But  religion  has  never  submitted  to  this:  y-et  one  step 
or  the  other  is  necessary,  either  compliances  or  mira- 
cles. It  is  no  wonder- that  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 
should  try  to  save  themselves  by  yielding  to  circum- 
stances; but,  in  point  of  flict,  this  is  not  preservation. 
It  is  change.  And  yet  with  all  these  variations,  still 
ihey  utterly  perish.  There  is  not  one  state  that  has 
lasted  for  1500  years.  If,  then,  thisreli^ion  has  al- 
ways continued  somewhere  in  existence,  and  continued'' 
firm" and  ihtiexible,  is  it  not^iyine  ? 

7.  There  would  be  too^muchi  ^scurity    over    this 
question,  if  the  truth  had  not  some  unequivocal  marks. 
This  is  a  valuable  one,  that  it  has  always  been  preser- 
ved in  a  visible    church.      The    proof  would  be_too 
bright,  if_ther£_j£aiitiJ[iuLone_opin^^ 
,  €hurch.     This,  then,  has  noFljeen  the    case  ;    but  in 
//order  to  discover  that  which  is  truth,  we  have  only  to 
i  ascertain  that    which    has    alwaj-s    existed,    for    that 
■  which  really  is  the    truth,  must  have    been    there    al- 
ways, but  that  which  is  false,  cannot.* 
Now,  the  belief  in  the  Messiah  has  been  ever  main- 
tained in  the  world.      The  tradition  from  Adam  was 
yet  recent  in  the  days  of  Noah,  and  even  of  Moses. 
Subsequently,  the  prophets  bore  testimony  to  Him  ;  at 
the  same  time   predicting   other  things,   which,  being 
from  day  to  day  fulfilled,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  es- 
tablished the  truth  of  their  mission,  and  consequently, 
of  their  unfulfilled  promises  concerning  the  Messiah. 
They   unanimously   declared  that   the  law  which  had 
been  given,  was  but  preparatory  to  that  of  the  Messi- 
ah ;  that,  till  then,  it  must  continue  ;  but  that  the  law 
of  Messiah  should  endure  for  ever:  so  that,  either  the 
law  of  Moses,  or  that  of  the   Messiah,  which  it  pro- 
phetically prefigured,  should  ahva3^s    continue  upon 
earth.     And,  in  fact,  there  has   been  that  perpetuity. 


•  How  completely  (his  simple  rule  condemns  all  the  Romish 

auperstitions. 


I  wl 


MARKS   OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  121 

Jesus  Christ  came  agreeably  to  all  the  circumstances 
of  their  predictions.  He  wrought  miracles ;  so  did 
his  apostles,  by  whom  he  converted  the  Gentile  world. 
And  the  prophecies  being  thus  fulfilled,  the  proof  of 
the  Messiah's  mission  is  for  ever  established. 

8.  1  see  many  opposing  religions.  Necessarily^ these 
are  all  false  but  one.  Each  seeks  to  be  received  on 
its  own  authority,  and  threatens  the  incredulous.  I  do 
not  believe  them  on  that  account,  for  any  one  can  say 
this.  Any  one  may  call  himself  a  prophet.  But  in 
the  Christian  religion,!  see  many  accomplished  prophe- 
cies, and  many  miracles  attested  beyond  all  reasona- 
ble doubt ;  I  find  this  in  no  otHer  religion  in  the 
world. 

.  9.  That  religion  only  which  is  contrary  to  our  na- 
ture, in  its  present  estate,  which  resists  our  pleasura- 
ble inclinations,  and  which  seems,  at  first,  contrary  to 
the  general  opinion  of  mankind,  that  only  has  perpet- 
ually subsisted. 

10.  The  whole  course  of  things  should  bear  upon 
the  establishment  and  the  exaltation  of  religion  ;  the 
opinions  and  feelings  of  men  should  be  found  conform- 
able to  what  religion  enjoins  ;  and,  in  a  word,  religiron 
should  be  so  manifestly  the  great  object  and  centre  to- 
wards which  all  things  tend,  that  whoever  understands 
its  principles,  should  be  enabled  to  account  by  it  for 
the  nature  of  man  in  particular,  and  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world  at  large. 

Now,  it  is  upon  this  very  ground  that  wicked  and 
profane  men  blasphemously  revile  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, because  they  misunderstand  it.  They  imagine 
that  it  consists  simply  in  the  adoration  of  God  as  great, 
powerful,  and  eternal ;  which  is,  in  fact,  merely  Deism, 
and  is  almost  as  far  removed  from  Christianity  as  Athe- 
ism, which  is  directly  opposed  to  it.  And  then  from 
hence  they  would  infer  the  falsehood  of  our  religion  ; 
because,  say  they,  were  it  true,  God  would  have  man- 
ifested himself  by  proofs  so  palpable,  that  no  man  could 
remain  ignorant  of  him. 

But  let  them  conclude  what  they  will   in  this  way, 
10 


122  MARKS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

against  Deism  ;  Ihisis  no  conclusive  objection  against 
Christianity  ;  for  our  religion  distinctly  states,  that, 
since  the  fall,  God  does  not  manifest  himself  to  us  with 
all  the  evidence  that  is  possible.  It  consists  properly 
inthe  mystery  of  a  Redeemer,  who,  bv  unitingjn  him-  . 
self  the  Divinejvnfl  hnmnn  natures,  hj^  delivered  men 
o u t~oREe^corru£tio n  o£sir^ 
■6had'tiOns'own_^iviii£_p£XSon^ 

ITiifculcaTes  on  men  these  two  truths  :  that  there  is 
a  God  whom  they  are  capable  ofknowing  and  enjoy- 
ing ;  and  that  there  is  a  corruption  in  their  nature, 
which  renders  them  unworthy  of  the  blessing.  These 
truths  are  equally  important ;  and  it  is  equally  dan- 
gerous for  man,  to  seek  God  without  the  knowledge 
of  his  own  misery,  and  to  know  his  own  misery  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  a  Redeemer  as  his  remed3^  To 
apprehend  the  one  without  the  other,  begets  either 
that  philosophic  pride  which  some  men  have  had,  who 
knew  God,  but  not  their  own  misery  ;  or  that  despair 
which  we  find  in  Atheists,  who  know  their  own  mise- 
ry, hut  not  their  Saviour. 

And  as  the  knowledge  of  these  two  truths  is  equally 
necessary  to  man,  so  it  is  of  the  mercy  of  God  to  af- 
ford the  means  of  knowing  both.  Now,  the  Christian 
religion  does  this,  and  that  is  its  avowed  and  specific 
object. 

Look  into  the  order  of  things  in  this  world,  and  see 
if  all  things  do  not  directly  tend  to  the  establishment 
of  these  two  fundamental  principles  of  our  religion. 

11.  If  a  man  does  not  know  himself  to  be  full  of 
pride,  ambition,  lust,  weakness,  misery,  and  unright- 
eousness, he  is  sadly  blind.  But,  if  with  the  knowledge 
of  the  evil,  he  has  no  wish  to  be  delivered  from  it, 
what  shall  we  say  of  such  folly  ?  Ought  Ave  not  then 
to  esteem  highly  a  religion  which  so  thoroughly  un- 
derstands our  defects ;  and  ardently  to  hope  for  the 
truth  of  a  religion  which  promises  so  desireable  a 
remedy? 

12.  It  is  impossible  to  meet  all  the  proofs  of  the 
Christian  religion,  combined  in  one  synoptical  review, 


1 


MARKS  OF  TRUE  RELIGION.  123 

without  feeling  that  they  have  a  force  which  no  rea- 
sonable man  can  resist. 

Consider  its Jirst  estahUshment.  That  a  religion  so 
contrary  to  our  nature,  shouTcThaYje  estalTlishecFlt^lf 
so  (quietly,  without  any  force  or  restraint  ;  and  yet  so 
ellectually,  tliat  no  torments  could  prevent  the  mar-^ 
tyrs  from  confessing: ij;  and  that  this  was  done,  not  on- 
ly without  the  assistance,  of  any  earthly  potentate 
whatever,  but  in  direct  opposition  to  all  the  kings  of 
earth  combined  against  it. 

Consider  the  holiness,  the  elevation^xnd  the- h-umii^- 
ity  of  a  Christiaii.Sjiirit."^"SRHire-tTf 'the  Pagan  philoso- 
phers have  been  elevated  above  the  rest  of  mankind 
by  a  better  regulated  mode  of  life,  and  by  the  influence 
of  sentiments  in  a  measure  conformed  to  those  of  Chris- 
tianitj^ ;  but  they  have  never  recognised  as  a  virtue 
that  which  Christians  call  humility  ;  and  they  would 
even  have  believed  it  Incompatible  with  other  virtues 
which  they  proposed  to  cherish.  None  but  the 
Christian  religion  has  known  how  to  unite  things  which 
previously  appeared  so  much  at  variance  :  and  has 
taught  mankind,  that  instead  of  humility  being  incon- 
sistent with  the  other  virtues,  all  other  virtues  without 
it  are  vices  and  defects. 

Coasider^yi^b^aindl^ss-jvxi.nders  of  the  Holy  Scxip=- 
tufeyThe'grandeur,  and  the  super-human  sublimity  of 
Tts  stateinents71in31:he  admirable  simplicity  ofits  style 
which  has  nothing  affected,  nothing  labored  or  recon- 
dite, and  which  bears  upon  the  face  of  it,  the  irre- 
sistible stamp  oftruth. 

C.ansider__es p^eriajjy^  thf^J>Prsnp     of   Jfgng_  f! brief, 

Whatever  may  bTtliought  of  him  in  other  respects, 
it  is  impossible  not  to  discern  that  he  had  a  truly  noble 
and  highly  elevated  spirit,  of  which  he  gave  proof, 
even  in  his  infanc}^  before  the  doctors  of  the  law. 
And  yet,  instead  of  applying  himself  to  the  cultivation 
of  his  talents  by  study,  and  by  the  society  of  the  learn- 
ed, he  passed  thirty  years  of  his  life  in  manual  labor, 
and  in  an  entire  separation  from  the  world  :  and  dur- 
ing the  three  years  of  his   ministry,  he  called  and  del- 


124  MARKS    OF  TRUE  RELIGION. 

egatecl  as  his  apostles,  men  without  knowledge,  with- 
out study,  without  repute  ;  and  he  excited  as  his  ene- 
mies, all  those  who  were  accounted  the  wisest  and  the 
most  learned  of  his  day.  This  was  certainly  an  ex- 
traordinary line  of  conduct,  for  one  whose  purpose  it 
was  to  establish  a  new  religion. 

Consid^r_also  thos^chosen_apostles  of  Jesnj=^  Cb^'^t : 
m£n  unlette.reji  .jiiid-i^tlTout  study ;  yet  who  found 
themselv^es  all  at  once  sufficiently_iaafnedJiijQDiLfaund — 
the  most  }jractis^Jhp^hiiosopl\e]:s,_and  sutBciently  firm 
to^resisjlTielnngsandJyxauts  who  opposedTHat "gos- 
peT"whicinhey~preached. 

Consider  that  extraordinary  series  of  prophets,  who 
have  followed  each  other  during  a  period  of  two  thou- 
sand years:  and  who,  in  so  many  different  ways,  have 
predicted,  even  to  the  most  minute  circumstances,  the 
life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ;  the  mis- 
sion of  his  apostles,  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  the 
conversion  of  the  Gentiles,  and  many  other  matters 
which  regarded  the  establishment  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, and  the  abolition  of  Judaism. 

Consider  the  wonderful  fulfilment  of  these  prophe- 
cies, which  have  their  accomplishment  so  accurately 
in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  none  but  he  who  is 
determined  wilfully  to  blind  himself,  can  fail  to  admit 
the  fact. 

Consider  the  state^of  the  Jewjsji_people,  both  pre- 
vioiLiIy~and  suhsG^4.;^4illjLjLo__thecomijagi^^  ;  how 

flourishing  hefn_re_hjs  comin^o^^^Jimy  full  of  misery 
sincefHey  reiectod  him  !  Even  at  this  day,  they  are 
without  any  peculiar  marks  of  their  religion,  without 
a  temple,  Avithout  s,acrifices,  scattered  over  the  whole 
world,  the  contempt  and  the  scoffing  of  all. 
/  Consider  the  perpetuity  of  the  Christian  religion, 
which  has  even  subsisted  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  either  in  the  Old  Testament  saints,  who  lived 
in  the  expectation  of  Christ  before  his  coming,  or  in 
those  who  have  received  and  believed  on  him  since. 
No  other  religion  has  been  perpetual,  and  this  is  the 
chief  characteristic  of  the  true  religion. 


IX  MAN,  AND  BY     ORIGINAL  SIN.  125 

FinaHw  consjder  thejiolin^^  nfthis  religion.  Con- 
5ider  its  doctrine,  which  gives  a  satisfactory  reason 
for  all  things ;  even  for  the  contrarieties  which  are 
found  in  man.  And  consider  all  these  singular  super- 
natural, and  divine  peculiarities  which  shine  forth  on 
every  side,  and  then  judge  from  all  this  evidence,  if  it 
is  possible  fairly  to  doubt  that  Christianity  is  the  onl  y 
true  religion  ;  and  if  any  other  religion  ever  possess- 
ed any  thing  which  could  bear  a  moment's  compari- 
son with  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


PROOFS  OF  THE  TRUE  RELIGION,    DRAwy  FROM  TBLE^ONTRA- 
RIETIES  IN  MAN,  AND  FROM  THE    DOCTRINE     OF    ORIGINAL 


The  greatness  and  the  misery  of  man  are  both  so 
manifest,  that  it  is  essential  to  the  true  religion,  to 
recognize  the  existence  in  man,  of  a  certain  principle 
of  extraordinary  greatness,  and  also  a  principle  of  pro- 
found misery.  For  thatj;eligion  which_is_tni&^  mntit 
thoroughly  know  our  nature  in  all  its  grandeur,  and  in  \ 
all  its  misery,  and  must  comprehend  the  source  ofhoiKj 
It  should  give  also  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  TEose 
astonishing  contrarieties  which  we  find  within  us. 
If  also  there  be  one  essence,  the  beginning  and  the 
end  ot  all  things,  the  true  religion  should  teach  ^us  to 
worship  and  to  love  him  exclusively.  But  since  we 
find  ourselves  unable  to  worship  him  whom  we  know 
not,  and  to  love  any  thing  beyond  ourselves,  it  is  es- 
sential that  the  religion  which  requires  of  us  these 
duties,  should  warn  us  of  our  weakness,  and  guide  us 
to  its  cure. 

Again,  religion,  to  make  man  happy,- should   teach 

Mm  that ibere  isj^God  :  that  we  ought  to    love   him-^ 

that  it  is  our  hap'pmess  to  be    his,    and  our    ojily— ^^eaj— 
evtHorbe  separated  from  him.     It  should  shew  us  that 
. — - -^  16*— >,^ 


12G  RELIGION  PROVED  BY  CONTRARIETIES 

we  are  full  of  gross  darkness,  which  hinders  us  from 
knowing  and  loving  him ;  and  that  our  duty,  thus  re- 
quiring us  to  love  God,  and  our  evil  affections  aliena- 
ting us  from  him,  we  are  manifestly  in  an  evil  state. 
It  ought  to  discover  to  us  also  the  cause  of  this  opposi- 
tion to  God,  and  to  our  real  welfare.  It  should  point 
out  to  us  the  remedy  and  the  means  of  obtaining  it. 
Examine,  then,  all  the  religious  systems  in  the  world 
on  these  several  points,  and  see  if  any  other  than 
Christianity  will  satisfy  you  respecting  them. 

Shall  it  be  the  religion  taught  by  those  philosophers 
who  offer  to  us  as  the  chief  good,  our  own  moral  ex- 
cellence ?  Is  this,  then,  the  supreme  good  ?  Have 
these  men  discovered  the  remedy  of  our  evils?  Have 
they  found  a  cure  for  the  presumption  of  man,  who 
thus  makes  him  equal  with  God  ?  And  they  who  have 
levelled  us  with  brutes,  and  held  up  as  the  chief  good 
the  sensual  delights  of  earth  ;  have  they  found  a  cure 
for  our  corrupt  affections  ?  These  say  to  us,  "  Lift  up 
your  eyes  to  God,  behold  him  whom  you  resemble, 
and  who  has  made  you  for  his  worship.  You  may 
make  yourselves  altogether  like  him;  and,  if  you  fol- 
low the  dictates  of  wisdom,  you  will  become  his 
equals."  Those  say,  "  Look  to  the  dust,  vile  reptiles, 
and  consider  the  beasts  with  whom  you  are  associated." 
What  then  is  to  be  the  lot  of  man  ?  Is  he  to  be  equal 
with  God,  or  with  the  beasts  that  perish  ?  How  awful 
the  scope  of  this  alternative.  What  shall  be  our  des- 
tiny ?  What  the  religion  that  shall  instruct  us,  at  once 
to  correct  both  our  pride  and  our  concupiscence  ? — 
Where  is  the  religion  that  shall  teach  us,  at  the  same 
time, our  happiness  and  our  duty,  the  weaknesses  which 
cause  us  to  err,  the  specific  for  their  removal,  and 
the  way  to  obtain  it  ?  Hear  what  the  wisdom  of  God 
declares  on  this  subject,  when  it  speaks  to  us  in  the 
Christian  religion. 

It  is  in  vain,  O  men !  that  you  seek  in  yourselves 
the  remedy  of  your. miseries.  All  the  light  you  have 
can  only  shew  you,  that  you  cannot  find  within  your- 
selves either  truth  or  happiness.      The  philosophers 


IN  MAN,    AND  BY  OIRGINAL  SIN.  127 

have  promised  you  both ;  but  they  could  give  you  nei- 
ther. They  know  not  your  real  happiness,  nor  even 
your  real  state.  How  could  they  cure  those  ills,  who 
did  not  even  know  them.  Your  chief  mischiefs  are, 
that  pride  which  alienates  you  from  God,  and  that  con- 
cupiscence which  fetters  you  to  earth;  and  they  have 
invariably  fostered,  at  least,  one  or  other  of  these 
evils.  If  they  set  God  before  you,  it  was  but  to  ex- 
cite your  pride,  by  making-  you  believe  that  your  na- 
ture was  similar  to  his.  And  they  who  saw  the  folly 
of  such  pretensions,  have  but  led  you  to  an  equally 
dangerous  precipice.  They  have  taught  you  that 
your  nature  was  on  a  level  with  the  beasts,  and  that 
happiness  was  only  to  be  found  in  those  lusts  which 
you  have  in  common  with  them.  This  was  not  the 
way  to  convince  you  of  your  errors.  Seek  not  then 
from  men,  either  truth  or  consolation.  I  made  you  at 
the  first,  and  I  only  can  teach  you  what  you  are.  You 
are  not  now  in  the  state  in  which  you  were  created  by 
me.  I  made  man  hol}^,  innocent,  and  perfect.  1  filled 
him  with  light  and  understanding.  1  made  known  to 
him  my  glory,  and  the  w'bnders  of  my  hand.  Then  it 
was  that  the  eye  of  man  beheld  the  majesty  of  God. 
He  was  not  then  in  the  darkness  which  now  blinds  him. 
He  knew  not  then  mortality  or  misery.  But  he  did 
not  long  enjoy  that  glory,  without  declining  to  pre- 
sumption. He  wished  to  make  himself  the  centre  of 
his  own  happiness,  and  to  live  independently  of  my 
aid.  He  withdrew  from  beneath  my  authority.  And 
when,  by  the  desire  to  find  happiness  in  himself,  he 
aimed  to  put  himself  on  a  level  with  me  ;  I  abandoned 
him  to  his  own  guidance  ;  and  causing  all  the  crea- 
tures that  I  had  subjected  to  him,  to  revolt  from  him, 
I  made  them  his  enemies :  so  that  now  man  himself  is 
actually  become  similar  to  the  beasts,  and  he  is  so  far 
removed  from  me.  that  he  scarcely  retains  even  a  con- 
fused notion  of  tne  Author  of  his  being :  so  much 
have  his  original  impressions  been  obliterated  and  ob- 
scured. His  senses  uncontrolled  by  reason,  and  often 
overruling  it,  hurry  him  onward  to  pleasure  and  to  in- 


128  RELIGION  PROVED  BY  CONTRARIETIES 

diligence.     All  the  creatures  round  him,  now  minister 
only  sorrow  or  temptation.     They  have  the  dominion 
over  him,  either  subduing  him  by   their  strength,    or 
seducing  him  by  their  fascinations  ;  a  tyrannical   con- 
trol, which  is,  of  all  others,  the  most  cruel  and  impe- 
rious. 
/^  Behold  then  the  present  state  and  condition  of  men. 
/  On  the   one   hand  they  retain  a  powerful    instinctive 
I      impression  of  the  happiness  of  their  primitive  nature; 
j      on  the  other  hand,  they  are  plunged  in  the   miseries 
y    of  their  own  blindness   and  lust ;  and  this  is  now  be- 
^*<3eome  their  second  nature. 

2.  In  the  principles  which  I  have  here  stated,  you 
may  discern  the  spring  of  those  wonderful  contrarie- 
ties which  have  confounded,  while  they  have  distract- 
ed and  divided  all  mankind  ^Vatch  attentively  all  the 
emotions  of  greatness  and  glory,  which  the  sense  of  so 
many  miseries  has  not  been  able  to  extinguish,  and  see 
if  they  must  not  have  their  source  in  another  na- 
ture. 

3.  See,  then,  proud  man,  what  a  paradox  thou  art 
to  thj^self  Let  impotent  reason  be  humbled  ;  let  frail 
nature  be  silent.  Know  that  man  infinitely  surpasseth 
man;  and  learn  from  thy  Maker,  thy  real  condition. 

For,  in  fact,  had  man  never  been  corrupted,  he 
would  have  ever  enjoyed  truth  and  happiness,  with  an 
assured  delight.  Arid  had  man  never  been  any  other 
than  corrupted,  he  would  never  have  had  any  idea  of 
truth  and  blessedness.  But  wretched  as  we  are,  (more 
%vretched  than  if  we  had  never  felt  the  consciousness 
of  greatness)  we  do  now  retain  a  notion  of  felicity, 
though  we  cannot  attain  it.  We  have  some  faint  im- 
pression of  truth,  while  all  we  grasp  is  falsehood. 
We  are  alike  incapable  of  total  ignorance  and  of  sure 
and  detinite  knowledge.  So  manifest  is  it,  that  we 
were  once  in  a  state  of  perfection,  from  which  we 
have  unhappily  fallen.  What  then  do  this  sense  of 
-want,  and  this  impotency  to  obtain,  declare  to  us,  but 
that  man  originally  possessed  a  real  bliss,  of  which  no 
traces  now  remain,  except  that  cheerless  void  within, 


IN  MAN,  AND  BY  ORIGINAL  SIN.  129 

which  he  vainly  endeavors  to  fill  from  the  things 
around  him ;  by  seeking  from  those  which  are  absent, 
a  joy  which  present  things  will  not  yield, — a  joy 
which  neither  the  present  nor  the  absent  can  bestow 
on  him;  because  this  illimitable  cfiiasm,  this  boundless 
void  can  never  be  tilled  by  any  but  an  infinite  and  im- 
mutable object. 

4.  It  is  an  astonishing  thought,  that  of  all  mysteries, 
that  which  seems  to  be  farthest  removed  from  our  ap- 
prehension, I  mean  the  transniission  of  original  sin^  is 
a.  fact  without  the  knowledge~onvhich  we  can  never  ^ 
satisfactorily  know  ourselves.  For,  undoubtedly, 
nothing  appears  so  revolting  to  our  reason  as  to  say 
that  the  transgression  of  the  first  man  should  impart 
guilt  to  those,  who,  from  their  extreme  distance  from 
the  source  of  the  evil,  seem  incapable  of  such  a  par- 
ticipation. This  transmission  seems  to  us  not  only  im- 
possible  but  un]ustr~Tor  "wliat  can  be  more  repugnant 
fo  tlTe~r"uIes  of  our  despicable  justice,  than  to  condemn 
eternally  an  infant,  yet  irresponsible,  for  an  offence,  in 
which  he  appears  to  have  had  so  little  share,  that  it 
was  committed  six  thousand  years  before  he  came  into 
existence.  Certainly  nothing  w^ounds  us  more  cruelly 
than  this  doctrine.  And  yet  without  tjiis_mysteryj  to 
us_ofjill  others_the  most  incomprehensible,  we  are  ut- 
terly incomprehensiETe  to""  ourselves.  The'compiica- 
ted  knot  of  our  condition,  has  its  mysterious  folds  in 
this  abyss;  so  that  man  is  more  incomprehensible 
without  this  mystery,  than  is  this  mystery  itself  to 
man. 

'Il]ie_jiQiiiin^_oforiginal  sin,  is  foolishness  to  men. 
But  then  we  shouTcI  not  condemn  the  want  of  reasona- 
bleness in  this  doctrine,  for  in  fact  it  is  not  assumed  to 
be  within  the  province  of_reason.  At  the  same  time, 
this  verjTIbolishness  is  wTserThan  ail  the  wisdom  of 
men  :  (^The  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  men^  1  Cor. 
i.  25.)      "For_without  this,   what  explanation   can    we 

give  of  man  !  His~whole  conditiorrhangs  upon  this  ofl^ 

imperceptible  poJnfT  Yet  how  could  he  have  discov- 
eTed''tlns~byTiis  rea'soiT;    seeing  it  is  a  matter  above 


130  RELIGIO.\  PKOYED   BY  CONTRARIETIES 

his  reason  ;  and  that  reas^on,  far  from   discovering  the 
fgict^re  volts  from  it,  whenTOsTeVeaTed^^ 

5.  These  TTvo^sTates  of'^Driglnal  innocence  and  sub- 
sequent corruplion,^being  once  presented  to  our  view, 
it  is  impossible  not  to  recognise  them,  and  admit  their 
truth.  Let  us  trace  our  own  emotions,  and  observe 
ourselves ;  and  let  us  see  whether  we  do  not  detect 
within,  the  living  characters  of  both  these  different 
natures.  Could  such  contrarieties  exist  in  the  subject 
of  one  simple  miture  ? 

Thlsjvvo^-fold  tendency  of  a  man  is  so  jdsibl£,  that 
some  have  conceived  him  to  possess  two  souls :  one 
soul  appearing  to  them  incapable  of  such  great  and 
sudden  changes,  from  an  immeasurable  presumption, 
to  the  most  debasing  and  abject  depravity. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  several  contrarieties  which 
seem  most  calculated  to  alienate  men  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  any  religion  whatever,  are  the  very  things 
which  should  most  effectually  avail  to  guide  them  to 
the  true. 

For  my  own  part,  I  avow,  that  as  soon  as  the  Chris- 
tian religion  discloses  this  one  principle, — that  human 
nature  is  depraved  and  fallen  from  God,  my  eyes  open 
at  once  to  discover  the  characters  of  this  truth,  inscri- 
bed on  every  thing  around  me.  All  nature,  both  wjHiiPL 
and  without  us^  most  manifestly  de^clares_the,HltE^a\7'-:j' 
ing  of_Go?! 

Without  this  divine  communication,  what  could  men 
do,  but  either  feed  their  pride  on  the  inward  impres- 
sion yet  remaining  of  their  former  greatness ;  or  ab- 
jectly sink  under  the  consciousness  of  their  present 
infirmity  ?  For  as  they  do  not  discern  all  the  truth,  they 
can  never  attain  to  perfect  virtue.  Some  regarding 
their  nature  as  hitherto  uncorrupted  ;  others,  as  irre- 
coverably lost ;  they  could  not  escape  one  of  the  two 
great  sources  of  all  vice, — either  pride  or  recklessness. 
They  must  either  abandon  themselves  to  vice,  through 
negligence;  or  emerge  from  it  by  the  strength  of 
their  pride.  li^ieyLJicere^  alive  to  the  excellency  of 
man,  they  would  be  ignorant  oQiB-£orfiiption  r-ah"d 


liV  MAN,  AND  BY  ORIGINAL  SIN.  131 

though,  hy  this  means,  they  would  avoid  the  guilt  of 
reckless  indifference,  they  would  split  upon  the  rock 
of  pride  ;  and  if  they  recognize  the^v^akness^ofhunriaQ. 
nature^  they  would  be  ^trangers  Jo„lts^-digDJijL:  and 
thus  they  would  shun  the  dangers  of  a  proud  presump- 
tion, only  to  plunge  themselves  into  the  vortex  of 
despair. 

From_thisvery  source  spriir]iyLaU_the  various  sects 

of  Stoics  and  EpKvnreans :  'of_the^Dognjatists,  and    thft 

Academics,  &c.  The ^hris ti anj-eligu) n_only^ 
able  thoroughly^to  cure_these  opposite  vices,;  not  by 
using  the  wisdom  of  thlsWorld  to  make  one  expel  the 
other;  but  by  expelling  them  both,  throjighihe  means 
of  the  simple  tnith^fthe_gmpel  For  while  it  exalts 
its  votaries  to  be  partakers  of  the  divine  nature,  it 
teaches  that  even  in  this  exalted  state,  they  carry  with 
them  the  source  of  all  corruption,  which  renders  them, 
during  their  whole  life,  liable  to  error  and  misery,  to 
death  and  sin.  At  the  same  time,  it  assures  the  most  im- 
pious, that  even  they  might  yet  experience  the  grace  of 
the  Redeemer.  Thus  administering  salutary  dread  to 
those  whom  it  justifies,  and  needful  encouragement  to 
those  whom  it  condemns ;  it  so  wisely  tempers  hope 
and  fear,  by  means  of  this  two-fold  capability  of  sin  and 
of  grace,  which  is  common  to  all  mankind,  that  it 
humbles  man  far  below  what  unassisted  reason  could 
do,  without  driving  him  to  despair  ;  and  it  exalts  man 
far  beyond  the  loftiest  height  of  natural  pride,  without 
making  him  presumptuous.  And  hereby  it  is  shewn  of 
Christian  religion,  that  inasmuch  as  it  only  is  free  from 
defect  or  error,  to  it  alone  belongs  the  task  of  instructing 
and  correcting  mankind. 

6.  We  have  po  conception^of  the  gl orl2JIg_lMg_- <>f 
Adam,  nor  of  the  nature  of  his  sin,  nor  of  the  transmis- 
sion of  it  to  ourselves.  These  things  occurred  under 
circumstances  widely  different  from  our  own  ;  and  they 
exceed  the  present  limits  of  our  comprehension.  The 
comprehension  of  them  would  be  of  no  avail  for  our 
deliverance  from  evil.  All  that  weneed  to  know  is, 
that  through  Adam  we  arprhef^ome^iserable^^rrup^; 


132  RELIGION  PROVED  BY  CO^'TRARITIES 

and,  alieiia±edJi:Ml.God|l>uMh^^ 

Erre_redeemed;___J^iid  qfjhis,  even  in   this    wnrlrl^  we 
Jiave_anipl£4u:xjjci£ 

7.  Christianity  has  its  wonders.  It  requires  man  to 
acknowledge  himself  vile  and  abominable  ;  it  requires 
him  also  to  emulate  the  likeness  of  his  Maker.  Unless 
these  things  had  been  accurately  balanced,  such  an 
exaltation  would  have  rendered  him  extravagantly  vain  ; 
Sjjch  a  debasement,  lamentably  abject. 
/  Misery  leads  to  despair ;  aggrandizement  to  pre- 
/  sumption. 

S^8.  The  mystery  of  the  incarnation,   shews  to  man 
(  th6  depth  of  his  degradation,  in  the  greatness   of  the 
feecessary  remed}'. 

"^  9.  The  Christian  religion  does  not  recognize  in  us 
such  a  state  of  abasement,  as  renders  us  incapable  of 
good ;  nor  such  a  purity  as  is  perfectly  safe  from  evil. 
No  doctrine  is  so  well  adapted  to  human  nature,  as  this 
which  declares  man's  capability  of  receiving  and  of 
forfeiting  grace ;  because  of  the  danger  to  which,  on 
either  hand,  he  is  ever  exposed,  of  despair  and  of  pre- 
sumption. 

10.  Philosophers  have  never  furnished  men  with 
sentiments  suited  to  these  two  features  of  their  condi- 
tion. They  either  infused  notions  of  unalloyed  great- 
ness, which  is  certainly  not  man's  real  state  ;  or  they 
encouraged  the  idea  of  man's  total  depravitj^,  which  is 
equally  an  error.  We  want  an  abasement  of  soul,  not  by 
the  indulgence  of  our  own  base  nature  ;  but  by  a  real 
penitence  :  not  that  we  may  abide  there,  but  that  we 
may  attain  thereby  to  exaltation.  We  want  the  stir- 
rings of  greatness  ;  not  those  which  originate  in  hu- 
man merit ;  but  those  which  spring  from  grace,  and 
follow  humiliation. 

11.  No  man  is  really  happy,  rational,  virtuous,  ami- 
able, but  the  true  Christian.  How  free  from  pride  is 
his  consciousness  of  union  with  the  deity  !  How  free 
from  meanness,  the  humility  which  levels  him  with  the 
worms  of  the  earth. 

Who,  then,  can  withhold  from  this  celestial  light,  his 


IX  MAN,  AND  BY  ORIGINAL  SIN.  1  33 


coniiJence  and  veneration?  For  is  it  not  clearer  than 
the  day,  that  we  discover  in  ourselves  the  indelible 
trapes  of  our  excellence  ;  and  is  it  not  equall}^  clear, 
that  we  experience  every  moment  the  sad  realities  of 
our  deplorable  condition?  And  does  not,  then,  ttiis  in- 
ternal chaos,  this  moral  confusion,  proclaim  with  a 
"voice  mighty  and  irresistible,  the  truth  of  those  two 
states,  to  which  revelation  bearstestimony  ? 

12.  That  which  hinders  men  from  believing'' that 
they  may  be  united  to  God,  is  the  conviction  of  their 
depraved  state.  But  if  they  are  sincere  in  this  convic- 
tion, let  them  follow  out  the  fact  to  its  bearings  as  I 
have  ;  and  let  them  acknowledge  that  the  eflect  of  this 
degradation  is,  to  render  us  incapable  of  judging  right- 
ly, whether  God  can  make  us  fit  to  enjoy  him  or  not. 
For  I  would  like  to  know  where  this  avowedly  weak 
and  degraded  creature  acquired  the  power  of  gauging 
the  divine  compassions,  and  limiting  them  according  to 
his  own  fancy.  Man  knows  so  little  of  what  God  i^, 
that  he  does  not  know  what  he  is  himself;  and  yet, 
while  unable  to  judge  of  his  own  real  state,  he  pre- 
sumes to  affirm,  that  God  cannot  fit  him  for  commu- 
nion with  him.  But  I  would  ask,  Is  not  the  very  thing 
which  God  requires  of  him  this,  that  he  should  know 
and  love  him  ?  And  why,  then,  since  he  is  naturally 
capable  of  knowing  and  loving,  should  he  doubt  the 
power  of  God  to  make  himself  the  object  of  this  knowl- 
edge and  love.  For  it  is  unquestionable  that  he  knows, 
at  least,  that  he  is,  and  that  he  loves  something. 
Then,  if  in  the  darkness  in  which  he  is,  he  yet  dis- 
cerns something,  and  if  he  finds  amidst  earthly  things 
some  object  of  love  ;  why  if  God  should  impart  some 
rays  of  his  own  essence,  should  he  not  be  capable  of 
knowing  him  and  of  loving  him,  as  he  is  discovered  in 
that  mode  in  which  he  has  been  pleased  to  reveal  him- 
self. 

There  is  then  an  unjustifiable  presumption  in   these 
reasonings.     Though  they  appear  to  be  founded  in  hu 
mility,  yet  that  humility  is  neither  sincere  nor  reason- 
able ;  but  as  it  leads  us  to  aclinowledge,  that  as  we  do 
11 


1 34  SUBMISSION  AND  USE  OF  REASON. 

not  thoroughly  know  what  we  are   ourselves,  we  can 
only  learn  it  from  God. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  DUE  STJBORDINATIOiy  A^DJISE  OF  REASOJf. 

The  hjo-hest  attainment  of  reason,  is   to    know_that 

there  is  anmjBnity  of  ]^ow1prlo-p  hpynnd^J^shmTts!      TT 

must  be  sadly  weak  if  it  has  not  dicovered  TRts.  We 
ought  to  know  where  we  should  doubt,  where  we  should 
be  confident,  and  where  we  should  submit.  He  who 
knows  not  this  does  not  comprehend  the  true  power  of 
reasoning.  There  are  men  who  fail  severally  on  each 
of  these  points.  Some  from  ignorance  of  what  is  de- 
monstration, assume  every  thing  to  be  demonstrable ; 
others  not  knowing  where  it  becomes  them  to  submit 
silently,  doubt  of  every  thing ;  and  others  again,  uncon- 
scious of  the  right  field  for  the  exercise  of  judgment, 
submit  blindly  to  all. 

2.  If  we  subject  every  thing  to  reason,  our  religion 
would  have  nothing  in  it  mysterious  and  supernatural. 
If  we  violate  the  principles  of  reason,  our  religion 
would   be  absurd  and  contemptible. 

Reason,  says  St.  Augustine,  would  never  submit,  if  it 
were  not  in  its  nature  to  judge,  that  there  are  occa- 
sions when  it  ought  to  submit.  It  is  right,  then,  that 
reason  should  yield  when  it  it  is  conscious  that  it  ought, 
and  that  it  should  not  yield  when  it  judges  deliberately 
that  it  ought  not.  But  we  must  guard  here  against 
self-deceit. 

3.  Piety  differs  from  superstition.  Superstition  is 
the  death  of  piet}^  The  heretics  reproach  us  with  this 

^t  superstitious  submission  of  the  understanding.  We 
1  should  deserve  their  reproach,  if  we  required  this  sur- 
j  render  in  things  which  do  not  require  it  rightly.  Noth- 
;  ing  is  more  consistent  with  reason,  than  the  repression 
'v^'  reasoning  in  matters  of  faith.  Nothing  more  con- 
rary  to    reason  than  the  pression  of  reasoning  in  mat- 


SUBMISSION  AND  USE  OF  REASON.  135 

ters  which  are  not  of  faith.  To  exclude  reasoning 
altogether,  or  to  take  no  other  guide,  are  equally  dan- 
^rous  extremes. 

/^  4.  Faith  afhrnis  many  things,  respecting  which  the 
I  senses  are  silent ;  but  nothing  that  they  deny.  It  is 
N9j_wa3's  superior,  but  never  opposed  to  their  testimony. 

5.  Some  men  say.  If  I  had  seen  a  miracle,  I  should 
have  been  converted.  But  they  would  not  so  speak  iV 
they  really  understood  conversion.  They  imagine 
that  conversion  consists  in  the  recognition  of  a  God; 
and  that  to  adore  him,  is  but  to  offer  him  certain  ad- 
dresses, much  resembling  those  which  the  pagans  made 
to  their  idols.  True  conversion,  is  to  feel  our  noth- 
ingness before  that  Sovereign  Being  whom  we  have  so 
often  offended ;  and  who  might,  at  any  moment  justly 
destroy  us.  It  is  to  acknowledge,  that  without  Him 
we  can  do  nothing,  and  that  we  have  deserved  nothing 
but  his  wrath.  It  consists  in  the  conviction,  that  be- 
tween God  and  us,  there  is  an  invincible  enmity ;  and 
that,  without  a  Mediator,  there  can  be  no  communion 
between  us. 

6.  Do  not  wonder  to  see  some  unsophisticated  peo- 
ple believe  without  reasoning.  God  gives  them  the 
love  of  his  righteousness,  and  the  abhorence  of  them- 
selves. He  inclines  their  heart  to  believe.  We 
should  never  believe  with  a  living  and  influential  faith, 
if  God  did  not  incline  the  heart ;  but  we  do  so  as  soon 
as  he  inclines  it.  This  David  felt,  when  he  said,  In- 
cline my  hearty  O  Lord^  unto  thy  testimonies. 

7.  If  any  believe  truly,  without  having  examined 
the  evidence  of  religion,  it  is,  that  they  have  received 
within,  a  holy  disposition,  and  that  they  find  the  aver- 
ments of  our  religion  conformed  to  it.  They  feel  that 
God  has  made  them.  They  wish  but  to  love  him, 
and  to  hate  only  themselves.  They  feel  that  they 
are  without  strength ;  that  they  are  unable  to  go  to 
God,  and  that  unless  he  comes  to  them,  they  can  have 
no  communication  with  him.  And  then  they  learn 
from  our  religion,  that  they  should  love  only  God,  and 
hate  only  themselves,  but  that  being  utterly  corrupt, 
and  alienated  from  God,  God  became  man  that  he  might 


133  THE  CLAIM  OF  REVELATIOTv". 

unite  himself  to  us.  Nothing  more  is  wanting  to  con- 
vince men,  who  liave  this  principle  of  piety  in  their 
hearts,  and  who  know  also  hoth  their  duty  and  their 
weakness. 

8.  Those  whom  we  see  to  he  Christians,  without 
the  inspection  of  the  prophecies  and  other  evidences, 
are  found  equally  good  judges  of  the  religion  itself,  as 
others  who  have  this  knowledge.  They  judge  by  the 
heart,  as  others  do  by  the  understanding.  God  himself 
has  inclined  their  hearts  to  believe,  and  hence  they 
are   effectlvel}^  persuaded. 

I  grant  that  a  Christian  who  thus  believes  without 
examining  evidence,  would  probably  not  have  the 
means  of  convincing  an  infidel,  who  could  put  his  own 
case  strongly.  But  those  who  know  well  the  evidence 
for  Christianity,  can  prove,  without  difficulty,  that  this 
belief  is  truly  inspired  of  God,  though  the  man  is  not 
able  to  prove  it  in  himself. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


TjIF  CHARACTER  OF  A  MAy  WHO  IS  •WEARIFD  WITt^  CjT'T'^j^Tvq 
G^D  BY  REASON  OXLY,  A^"D  WHO  EEGIXS  TO  READ  THE 
g^CRIPTURES.        ———————  ■ 


Whe?^  I  look  at  the  blindness  and  miserj'^  of  man,  and 
at  those  appalling  contrarieties  which  are  apparent  ia 
his  nature ;  and  when  I  survey  the  universe  all  silent, 
and  man  without  instruction,  left  alone,  and,  as  it  were, 
a  lost  wanderer  in  this  corner  of  creation,  without 
knowing  who  placed  him  here,  what  he  came  to  do, 
or  what  becomes  of  him  at  death,  I  am  alarmed  as  a 
man  is,  who  has  been  carried  during  his  sleep  to  a 
desolate  and  gloomy  island,  and  who  has  awaked,  and 
discovered  that  he  knows  not  where  he  is,  aDd  that  he 
has  no  means  of  escape.  1  wonder  how  any  one  can 
avoid  despair,  at  the  consideration  of  this  wretched 
state.  I  see  others  around  mc  having  the  same  nature  : 
I  ask  them  if  they  know  more  on   this  subject  than  I ; 


THE  CLAIM  OF  rEVELATIOX.  137 

and  they  answer,  no.  And  I  see  that  these  wretched 
wanderers,  like  m3'Self,  having  looked  around  them, 
and  discovered  certain  pleasurable  objects,  had  given 
themselves  up  to  them  without  reserve.  For  myself, 
I  cannot  rest  contented  with  such  pleasures ;  I  cannot 
find  repose  in  this  society  of  similar  beings,  wretched 
and  por/erless  as  I  am  myself.  I  see  that  they  cannot 
help  me  to  die.  I  must  die  alone.  It  becomes  me 
then  to  act  as  if  I  were  alone.  Now,  if  I  were  alone 
here,  1  should  not  build  mansions.  I  should  not  en- 
tangle niA^self  with  tumultuous  cares.  I  should  not 
court  the  favor  of  any,  but  I  should  strive  to  the  utmost 
to  discover  what  is  truth.  With  this  disposition,  and 
considering  what  strong  probability  there  is,  that  other 
things  exist  beside  those  which  I  see  ;  I  have  inquired 
if  that  God  of  whom  all  the  world  speaks,  has  not 
given  us  some  traces  of  himself.  1  look  around,  and 
see  nothing  but  darkness  on  every  side.  All  that  nature 
pr£sentsJo  me,  only  suggests  cause^  for  cfoiiht  \^r\d  dis- 
trust. If  I  saw  nothing  m  nature  that  intimated  a 
divinity,  I  would  determine  not  to  believe  anything 
concerning  him.  If  I  saw  every  where  the  traces  of 
a  deity,  I  would  cherish  at  once  the  peaceful  repose  of 
faith  ;  but  seeing*  too  much  evidence  to  justify  a  deninl, 
and  too  little  to  minister~assurancaJ  arn  ip  a__p2li^J2lg_ 
state,  in  which  1  have  wished  an  hundred  times,  that  if 
a  (jod.  sustains  nature,  she  might  declare  it  unequivo- 
cally ;  and  that  if  the  intimations  she  gives  are  false, 
they  may  be  entirely  suppressed  ;  that  nature  would 
speak  conclusively,  or  not  at  all,  so  that  I  might  know 
distinctly  which  course  to  take.  Instead  of  this,  in  my 
present  state,  ignorant  of  what  I  am,  and  of  what  I 
ought  to  do  :  I  know  neither  my  conditionjior-onyi- 
duty^  My  heart  yearns~to  knovvryhaTis  the  real  good, 
in  order  to  follow  it.  And,  for  this,  I  would  count  no 
sacrifice  too  dear. 

J  see  manyreligious  systems,  in  different  parts  and  at 
diSferent^ierrodFofttnr-^orld.  But  I  am  riot  satisfied, 
either  with  the   morality    which  they^teach,  nor   the 

proofs  on  which  they  rest.     On  this   ground,   I  must 
- — _— 114^ 


138  THE  CLAIM  OF  REVELATION. 

have  equally  refused  the  religion  of  Mahomet,  of  Chi- 
na, of  the  ancient  Romans  or  the  Egyptians,  for  this 
one  reason,  that  any  one  of  them,  not  having  more 
marks  of  verity  than  another,  and  nothing  which  sim- 
ply and  positively  determines  the  question,  reason 
could  never  incline  to  one  in  preference  to  the  rest. 

But,  whilst  thus_considering  thhyaried  and  strange_ 
contrariety  of  religious  customs "an3rcreeHs~aI  dlleFent 
perlods,T]find  in  one  small  portion  of  the  world,  a  pe- 
culiajLpjso^le,  separated  from  all  the  other  nations  of 
the  earth,  and  whose  historical  records  are  older,  by 
several  centuries,  than  those  of  the  most  ancient  of 
other  nations.  I  iind  this  a  great  and  numerous  peo- 
ple ;  who  adore  one  God,  and  wlio  are  governed  by  a_ 
law  wKich  thej^protess  to  hcne  received  trom  his 
hgiid.  ThfiyL-maioiaJn,  that  to  them  only,  of  all  the 
world,  has  God^revealed  his  mysteries  :  that  all  man- 
Idnd^are  corrupt,  and  under  the  djjiineljlispleasure  ^ 
that  men  are  ail  given  up  to  the  guidance~oftlieir  cor- 
rupt affections,  and  their  own  understandings  ;  and  that 
hence  originate  all  the  strange  irregularities  and  con- 
tinual changes  among  men,  both  in  religion  and  man- 
ners, whilst  theij  remained  as  to  their  rule  of  conduct, 
unaltered;  but  that  God  will  not  leave  even  the  other 
nations  eternally  in  darkness  ;  that  a  deliverer  shall 
oome  forth  for  them ;  that  they  are  in  the  world  ~to" 
announce  him  ;  tbat  they  wei~e~prepared  expressly  as 
the'tieraTds'oT  his  advent,  and  to  summ'oh  alFnations  to 
unite  wdth  them  in  the  expectation  of  this  Saviou"i\ 

The  meeting  with  such  a  people  surprises  me,  and 
on  account  of  the  many  wonderful  and  singular  events 
connected  with  them,  they  seem  to  me  worthy  of  the 
greatest  attention. 

They  are  a  nation_of  brethren ;_  and  whilst  other 
nations  afeTouhcI^an  infinite  number  of  families,  tbji. 
people^^ough_so.„exlj:xnonUnarily  popuiQii£^__are_all_ 
d^gceiTded  frojna.one  nuin ;  and  being  thus  one  flesh, 
and  members  one  of  another,  they  compose  a  mighty 
power,  concentrated  in  one  single  family.  This  is  an 
instance  without  parallel. 


THE  CLAIM  OF  REVELATION.  139 

This  is  the  most  ancient  people,  within  the  memory 
of  man  ;  a  circumstance  which  makes  them  worth\^  of 
peculiar  regard,  .':ind  especially  with  reference  to  oui 
present  inquiry  :  for  if  God  did  in  all  previous  time, 
communicate  with  man,  then  it  is  to  this,  the  most  an- 
cient people,  that  we  must  come  to  ascertain  the  tra- 
dition. 

This  people  is  not  only  considerable  for  its  antiquity, 
but  for  its  duration,  which  has  ever  continued  from  its 
origin  till  now :  for  while  thejiations  of  Greece,  of 
Italy,  of  Lacedemon,  Athens  or  Rome,  aiid_others  that 
iTave  aribeu  uiuctriUtel^TiliTeT6^hg"since~passed_aj^ 
this  nation  still  subsists,  an  J  notwithstanding  the  efforts 
oflnany  mighty  kings,  who,  according  to  historic  tes- 
timony, have  tried  a  hundred  times  to  destroy  them ; 
an  event,  also,  which  is  easy  to  suppose  would  have 
occurred  in  the  natural  course  of  events  in  so  many 
years ;  yet  they  have  been  always  preserved  ;  and 
their  history,  extending  from  the  primitive  times  to 
the  present,  involves  the  period  of  all  other  histories 
within  its  own. 

The  law  by  which  this  people  is  governed,  is  at  the 
same  time  the  most  ancient,  the  most  perfect,  and  the 
only  one  which  has  been  recognised  without  interrup- 
tion in  a  state.  Philo,  the  Jew,  shews  this  in  several 
places ;  and  so  does  Josephus  against  Appion,  where 
he  observes  that  it  is  so  ancient,  that  even  the  term 
(name  ?)  of  law  was  not  known  by  the  most  ancient 
nations,  till  more  that  1000  years  afterwards;  so  that 
Homer,  who  speaks  of  so  many  nations,  never  uses  it. 
And  it  is  easy  to  form  an  idea  of  its  perfection,  by  sim- 
ply reading  it;  where  we  see  that  it  had  provided  for 
all  things  with  so  much  wisdom,  equity  and  prudence, 
that  the  most  ancient  Greek  and  Roman  legislators, 
have  received  a  measure  of  its  light,  have  borrowed 
from  it  their  chief  and  best  institutions.  This  appears 
from  the  twelve  tables,  and  from  the  other  proofs  ad- 
duced by  Josephus. 

This  law  is  also,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  severe 
and  rigorous  of  all ;    enjoining  on  this    people,  under 


140  THE  CLAIM  OF  REVELAHON. 

pain  of  death,  a  thousand  peculiar  and  painful  observ- 
ances, as  the  means  of  keeping*  them  in  their  duty. 
So  that  it  is  very  wonderful,  that  this  law  should  have 
been  preserved  for  so  many  ages,  amidst  a  people  so 
rebellious  and  impatient  of  the  yoke  ;  whilst  all  other 
nations  have  repeatedly  changed  their  laws,  though 
much  more  easy  of  observance. 

2.  This  peoplejn_ust,also^be  admired  for  their  sinceri- 
ty._  They  keep  wijji  affectlonXnd  fidelity,"  th"e""'bgoli: 
in  which  Moses  decTares,  tliat  they  haye^^gn  jan^ 
graTgfeTTo  their  God,  and  that  he~lmows^lhey  will  be 
still  more  so,  after  his  death;  but  that  he  calls  heaven 
and  earth  to  witness  against  them,  that  he  had  given 
them  an  ample  warning  :  that  at  length  God,  becoming 
angry  with  them,  would  scatter  them  among  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth ;  and  that  as  they  had  angered 
him  in  worshipping  those  as  Gods  Avho  were  no  Gods, 
he  would  anger  them  in  calling  a  people  who  were  not 
his  people.  Yet  this  book.jvhj^hsoxxipiQus-ly  dishnn«.. 
ors  them,  they  preserved  the  expense  of  their  life. 
ThlTiiVsmcentjnvTncHTia^  paralleliii' th^  ivorhtf 
and  has  not  its  radical  princTpTeTn  mere  human  nature. 

Then,  finally,  I  find  no  reason  to  doubt  the  truth   of 
the  book,  which  contains  ail  these  things  ;    for   there 
is  a  great  difference  between    a  book  which   an   indi- 
vidual writes  and  introduces   among   a  people   and  a 
book  which  actually  forms  that  people. 
XT?here  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  book  is    as    old   as 
/   the  nation.     It  is  a  book  written  by  contemporary  au- 
V  tliors.     All  history  that  is    not  contemporary,  is  ques- 
tionable, as  the  books  of  the  Sybil,   of  Trismegistus, 
and  many  others  that  have  obtained   credit  with    the 
world,  and  in  the  course  of  time,  have  been  proved  to 
be  false.     But  this  is  not  the  case  with  contemporary 
historians. 

3.  How  different  this  from  other  books  !  I  do  not 
wonder  that  the  Greeks  have  their  Iliad,  or  the  Egyp- 
tians and  Chinese  their  histories.  We  have  only  to 
observe  how  this  occurs.  These  fabulous  historians 
are  not  contemporary  with  the  matters  which  they  re- 


THE  JEWS.  141 

cord.  Homer  writes  a  romance,  which  he  sends  forth 
as  such  ;  for  scarcely  any  one  doubts  that  Troy  and 
Ag-amemnon  no  more  existed,  than  the  golden  apple. 
His  object  was  not  to  write  a  historj^,  but  a  book  of 
amusement.  It  was  the  only  book  of  his  day.  The 
beauty  of  the  composition  preserved  it.  Every  one 
learned  it  and  spoke  of  it.  It  must  be  known.  Every 
one  knew  it  by  heart.  Then  four  hundred  years  af- 
terwards, the  witnesses  of  things  have  ceased  to  exist. 
No  one  knew  by  his  own  knowledge  whether  it  was 
truth  or  fable.  All  they  knew  was,  that  they  learned 
it  from  their  ancestors.     It  may  pass  then  for  truth. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  creation  and  the  deluge  having  taken  place, 
and  God  not  purposing  again  to  destroy  or  to  create 
the  world.^  nor  again  to  vouchsafe  such  extraordinary  ev- 
idences of  himself,  began  to  establish  a  people  on  the 
earth,  formed  expressly  to  continue  till  the  coming  of 
that  people  whom  Messiah  should  form  to  himself  by 
his  Spirit. 

2.  God,  willing  to  make  it  evident  that  he  could 
form  a  people  possessed  of  a  sanctity  invisible  to  the 
world,  and  filled  with  eternal  glor}^,  has  exhibited  a 
pattern  in  temporal  things,  of  w^hat  he  purposed  to  do 
in  spiritual  blessings  ;  that  men  might  learn  from  his 
excellefit  doings  in  the  things  which  are  seen,  his 
abilit}^  to  do  his  will  in  the  things  which  are  not  seen. 

With  this  view,  in  the  person  of  Noah,  he  saved  his 
people  from  the  deluge ;  he  caused  them  to  be  born 
of  Abraham ;  he  redeemed  them  from  their  enemies, 
and  gave  them  rest. 

The  purpose  of  God  was  not  to  save  a  people  from 
the  flood,  and  to  cause  them  to  spring  from  Abraham, 
merely  that  he  might  plant  them  in  a  fruitful  land ;  but 


142  THE  JEWS. 

that  as  nature  is  in  a  measure  symbolical  of  grace, 
these  visible  wonders  might  indicate  the  unseen  won- 
ders which  he  purposed  to  perform. 

3.  Another  reason  of  his  choosing  the  Jewish  peo- 
ple is,  that  as  he  purposed  to  deprive  his  own  people  of 
carnal  and  perishable  possessions,  he  would  shew  by 
this  series  of  miracles,  that  their  poverty  was  at  least 
not  imputable  to  his  impotence. 

This  people  had  cherished  these  earthly  conceits, 
that  God  loved  their  father  Abraham  personally,  and 
all  who  descended  from  him  :  that  on  this  accouiit,  he 
had  multiplied  their  nation  and  distinguished  them 
from  all  others,  and  forbidden  their  intermingling  with 
them ;  and  that  therefore  he  led  them  out  of  Egypt 
with  such  mighty  signs ;  that  he  fed  them  with  manna 
in  the  wilderness  ;  that  he  brought  them  into  a  hap- 
py and  fruitful  land  ;  that  he  gave  them  kings,  and  a 
beautiful  tem.ple  for  the  sacrifice  of  victims,  and  for 
their  purification  by  the  shedding  of  blood  ;  and  that 
he  purposed  ultimately  to  send  them  a  Messiah,  to 
make  them  masters  of  the  whole  world. 

The  Jews  being  accustomed  to  great  and  splendid 
miracles,  and  having  considered  the  events  at  the  Red 
Sea,  and  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  but  as  a  sample  of  the 
great  things  to  be  done  by  Messiah,  expected  from 
him  the  accomplishment  of  wonders  far  more  brilliant, 
and  compared  with  which,  the  miracles  of  Moses 
should  be  but  as  a  spark. 

When  the  Jewish  nation  had  grown  old  in  these  low 
and  sensual  views,  Jesus  Christ  came  at  the  time  pre- 
dicted, but  not  with  the  state  which  they  had  anticipa- 
ted, and,  consequently,  they  did  not  think  that  it 
could  be  he.  After  his  death,  St.  Paul  came  to  teach 
men  that  all  the  events  of  the  Jewish  history  were 
figurative  ;  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  not  carnal, 
but  spiritual ;  that  the  enemies  of  men  were  not  the 
Babylonians,  but  their  own  passions;  that  Goddelight- 
eth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands,  but  in  a  pure  and 
penitent  heart ;  that  the  circumcision  of  the  body  was 
unavailing,  but  that  he  required  the  circumcision  of 
the  heart. 


THE  JEWS.  143 

4.  God,  not  willing  to  discover  these  things  to  a 
people  unworthy  of  them,  but  willing,  nevertheless  to 
announce  them  that  ihey  might  be  believed,  did  clear- 
ly predict  the  time  of  their  fulfilment,  and  did  some- 
times even  clearly  express  the  truths  themselves  ;  but 
ordinarily  he  did  so  in  figures,  that  those  who  prefer- 
red the  things  which  prefigured,  might  rest  in  them  ; 
whilst  they  who  really  loved  the  things  prefigured, 
might  discover  them.  And  hence  it  followed,  that  at 
the  coming  of  Messiah,  the  people  was  divided.  The 
spiritually-minded  Jew  received  him  ;  the  carnal  Jews 
rejected  him;  and  have  been  ordained  to  remain,  to 
this  day,  as  his  witnesses. 

5.  The  carnal  Jews  understood  not  either  the  digni- 
ty or  the  degradation  of  Messiah,  as  predicted  by  their 
prophets.  They  knew  him  not  in  his  greatness  ;  as 
When  it  is  said  of  him,  that  Messiah,  the  son  of  David, 
shall  be  David's  Lord  ;  that  he  was  before  Abraham, 
and  had  seen  Abraham.  They  did  not  believe  him  to 
be  so  great  as  to  have  been  from  everlasting.  Nei- 
ther did  they  know  him  in  his  humiliation  and  death. 
"Messiah,"  they  said,  "  abideth  ever;  and  this  man 
says  that  he  must  die."  They  did  not  believe  him  to 
be  either  mortal  or  eternal.  They  expected  nothing 
beyond  an  earthly  carnal  greatness. 

They  so  loved  the  material  figure,  and  so  exclu- 
sively devoted  themselves  to  it,  that  they  knew  not 
the  realitj'-,  even  when  it  came  both  at  the  time  and 
in  the  manner  foretold. 

6.  Sceptical  men  try  to  find  their  excuse  in  the  un- 
belief of  the  Jews.  "  If  the  truth  was  so  clear,"  it  is 
said,  "  why  did  they  not  believe  ?"  But  their  rejec- 
tion of  Christ  is  one  of  the  foundations  of  our  confi- 
dence. We  had  been  much  less  inclined  to  believe,  if 
they  had  all  received  him.  We  should  thus  have  had 
a  much  ampler  pretext  for  incredulity  and  distrust.  It 
is  a  wonderful  confirmation  of  the  truth,  to  see  the 
Jews  ardently  attached  to  the  things  predicted,  yet 
bitterly  hostile  to  their  fulfilment ;  and  to  see  that  this 
very  aversion  was  itself  foretold. 


144  THE  JEWS. 

7.  To  establish  the  Messiah"'s  claim  to  confidence,  it 
required  that  there  should  be  prophecies  going  before 
him,  and  that  these  should  be  in  the  hands  of  men  al- 
together unsuspected,  and  of  diligence,  fidelit}^  and 
zeal  extraordinary  in  their  degree,  and  known  to  all 
men. 

To  attain  this  object,  God  chose  this  sensual  nation, 
to  whose  care  he  committed  the  prophecies  which 
foretel  the  Messiah  as  a  deliverer,  and  a  dispenser  of 
those  earthly  blessings  which  this  people  loved.  They 
felt,  therefore,  an  extraordinary  regard  for  their 
prophets,  and  exhibited  to  the  whole  world  those 
books  in  which  Messiah  was  foretold  ;  assuring  all  na- 
tions that  he  would  come,  and  that  he  would  come  in 
the  mode  predicted  in  those  books,  which  they  laid 
open  to  the  inspection  of  the  world.  But  being  them- 
selves deceived  by  the  mean  and  ignominious  advent 
of  Messiah,  they  became  his  greatest  enemies.  So 
that  we  have  the  people  Avhich  would  be,  of  all  man- 
kind, the  least  suspected  of  favoring  the  Christian 
scheme,  directly  aiding  it ;  and  by  their  zeal  for  the 
law  and  the  prophets,  preserving  with  incorruptible 
scrupulosity,  the  record  of  their  own  condemnation, 
and  the  evidences  of  our  religion. 

8.  Those  who  rejected  and  crucified  Jesus  Christ, 
as  an  offence  to  them,  are  they  who  possess  the  books 
that  bear  witness  of  him,  and  that  testily  that  he 
would  be  rejected  as  an  offence  to  them.  Thus  by 
their  rejection  of  him,  they  marked  him  as  Messiah ; 
and  he  has  received  testimony  both  from  the  right- 
eous Jew  who  believed,  and  from  the  unrighteous  who 
rejected  him  :  both  those  facts  being  foretold  in  their 
scriptures. 

For  the  same  reason,  the  prophecies  have  a  hidden 
sense — a  spiiitual  meaning,  to  which  the  people  were 
adverse,  concealed  under  the  carnal  m.eaning  which 
they  loved.  Had  the  spiritual  meaning  been  evident, 
they  had  not  the  capacit}^  to  love  it :  and  as  they 
would  not  have  approved  it,  they  would  have  had  lit- 
tle zeal  for  the   preservation  of  their  scriptures  and 


THE  JEWS.  145 

their  ceremonies.  And  even  if  they  had  loved  these 
spiritual  promises,  and  had  preserved  them  uncorrupt- 
ed  to  the  daj's  of  Messiah,  their  witness,  as  the  wit- 
ness of  friends,  would  have  wanted  its  present  impor- 
tance.~  On  this  account,  it  seems  good  that  the  spirit- 
ual sense  was  concealed.  But  on  the  other  hand,  if 
this  sense  had  been  so  hidden,  as  not  to  be  seen  at  all, 
it  could  not  have  served  as  a  testimony  to  the  Messi- 
ah, What,  then,  has  God  done  ?  In  the  majority  of 
passages,  the  spiritual  was  veiled  under  the  temporal 
sense,  whilst  in  a  few^  it  was  clearly  discovered. 
Moreover,  the  time  and  the  state  of  the  world,  at  the 
period  of  fulfilment,  were  so  clearly  foretold,  that  the 
sun  itself  is  not  more  evident.  The  spiritual  meaning 
also  is  in  some  places  so  plainly  developed,  that  not  to 
discover  it,  there  needed  absolutely  such  a  blindness, 
as  the  flesh  brings  upon  the  spirit  that  is  entirely  en- 
slaved by  it. 

This  then  is  the  way  which  God  has  taken.  This 
spiritual  meaning  is  in  most  place's  concealed  ;  and  in 
some,  though  rarely,  it  is  disclosed.  But  then  this  is 
.done  in  such  a  way,  that  the  passages  where  the 
meaning  is  concealed,  are  equivocal,  and  equally  ad- 
mit both  senses;  whilst  the  places  where  the  spiritual 
import  is  displayed  are  unequivocal,  and  will  only  bear 
the  spiritual  interpretation.  So  that  this  method  could 
not  properly  lead  to  error,  and  that  none  but  a  people 
as  carnal  as  they,  could  have  misunderstood  it. 

For  when  good  things  are  promised  in  abundance, 
what  forbad  them  to  understand  the  true  riches,  ex- 
cept cupidit}^  which  at  once  eagerly  restricted  the 
sense  to  earlhjy  blessings  ?  But  they  who  had  no 
treasure  but  in  God,  referred  them  exclusively  to  God. 
For  there  are  two  principles  which  divide  the  human 
will,  covetouaness  and  charity.  It  is  not  that  covetous- 
ness  cannot  co-exist  with  faith,  or  charity  with  earthly 
possessions  :  but  covetousness  makes  its  use  of  God, 
and  enjviys  the  world  ;  whilst  charity  uses  the  'vorld, 
but  finds  its  joy  in  God. 

It  is  the  ultimate  end  which  we  have  in  view,  that 
12 


146  «  THE  JEWS. 

gives  names  to  things.  Whatever  prevents  our  ob- 
taining this  end  is  called  an  enemy.  Thus  crea- 
tures, though  in  themselves  good,  are  the  enemies  of 
the  just,  Tvhen  they  withdraw  them  from  God ;  and 
God  is  accounted  the  enemy  of  those  whose  passions 
he  counteracts. 

Hence  the  word  enemy  in  the  Scripture,  v:  ries  in 
its  application  with  the  end  sought;  the  righteous  under- 
stand by  it  their  own  passions,  and  the  carnal  men,  the 
Babylonians ;  so  that  these  terms  were  only  obscure 
to  the  wicked.  And  this  Isaiah  means  when  he  saj^s, 
Seal  the  lazv  among  m/  disciples.  And  when  he  proph- 
esies that  Christ  vhould  be  a  stone  of  stumbling,,  and  a 
rock  of  offence,  but  blessed  are  they  'who  shall  ndt  be  of- 
fendedinhim.  Hosea  says  the  same  thing  very  plainly: 
Who  is'wise^  and  he  shall  understand  these  things  ;  pru- 
dent,, and  he  shall  knozv  them.  For  the  ways  of  the  Lord 
are  right,,  and  the  just  shall  walk  in  them  ;  but  transgres- 
sors shall  fall  therein. 

And  yet  this  Testament  which  is  so  composed,  that 
in  enlightening  some,  it  blinds  others,  did~  stamp  the 
truth  upon  those  whom  it  blinded,  so  plainlj^  that  oth- 
ers might  read  it.  For  the  visible  external  blessings 
which  they  received  from  God,  were  so  great  and  God- 
like, as  to  render  it  abundantly  evident,  that  he  could 
give  them  invisible  blessings,  and  a  Messiah,  according 
to  his  word. 

9.  The  time  of  Christ's  first  advent  was  accurately 
foretold;  the  time  of  the  second  is  not;  because  the 
first  was  to  be  private,but  the  second  was  to  be  splen- 
did, and  so  evident  that  even  his  enemies  should  ac- 
knowledge him.  But  since  it  became  him  to  come  in 
obscurity,  and  to  be  revealed  only  to  those  who  sincere- 
ly searched  the  Scriptures.  God  had  so  ordered  things, 
that  ail  contributed  to  make  him  known.  The  J^vvs 
bore  witness  to  him,  by  receiving  him,  for  they 
were  the  depository  ol  the  prophecies;  and  they 
confirmed  the  truth  by  rejecting  him,  for  by  this  they, 
fulfilled  the  prophecies. 

10.  The  Jews  had  in  their  favor,  both  miracles  and 


THE  JEWS.  147 

prophecies  which  they  saw  fulfilled  :  the  doctrine  also 
of  their  law  required  them  to  worship  and  to  serve 
but- one  God.  Their  religion  had  been  of  perpetual 
duration.  Thus  it  had  every  mark  of  being  the  true 
religion  ;  and  so  it  was.  But  we  must  distinguish  be- 
tween the  doctrine  of  the  Jews,  and  the  doctrine  of  the 
Jewish  law ;  for  the  doctrine  actually  held  by  the 
Jews,  was  not  true  ;  though  associated  with  miracles," 
prophecies,  and  the  perpetuity  of  their  system ;  be- 
cause it  wanted  the  fourth  essential  characteristic — the 
exclusive  love  and  service  of  God. 

The  Jewish  religion,  then,  must  be  differently  esti- 
mated, according  as  it  appears  in  the  traditions  of  their 
saints,  and  the  traditions  of  the  people.  Its  moral 
rule  and  its  promised  happiness,  as  stated  in  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  people,  are  quite  ridiculous;  but  in  the 
authentic  traditions  of  their  holy  men,  they  are  admir- 
able. The  basis  of  their  religion  is  excellent.  It  is 
the  most  ancient,  and  the  most  authentic  book  in  the 
world  ;  and  whilst  Mahomet,  to  preserve  his  Scrip- 
tures from  ruin,  has  forbidden  them  to  be  read  ;  Moses, 
to  establish  his,  ordered  every  one  to  read  them. 

11.  The  Jewish  religion  is  altogether  divine  in  its 
authority,  its  continuance,  perpetuity,  in  its  morals, 
its  practice,  its  doctrine,  and  its  effects.  It  was  framed 
as  a  type  of  the  reality  of  the  Messiah  ;  and  the  truth 
of  the  Messiah  was  recognized  by  the  religion  of  the 
Jews.  The  truth  dwelt  only  typically.  In  heaven  it  ex- 
ists unveiled.  In  the  church,  it  is  veiled,  but  made 
known  by  its  symbolising  with  the  figure.  The  type 
was  framed  according  to  the  pattern  of  the  truth,  and 
the  truth  was  di-xlosed  by  the  type. 

12.  He  who  should  estimate  the  Jewish  religion  hy 
externals,  would  be  in  error.  It  may  be  seen  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures  ;  and  in  the  traditions  of  their  prophets, 
who  have  amply  shewn  that  they  did  not  understand 
the  law  literally.  Thus,  our  religion  seen  in  the  gos- 
pels, the  epistles,  and  in  its  traditions,  is  divine ;  but  it 
Jls  sadly  distorted  among  the  many  who  misuse  it. 

13.  The  Jews  were  divided  into  two  classes.     The 


148  -  THE  JEWS.  i 

dispositions  of  the  one  were  only  heathen  ;  those  of 
the  other  Christian. 

Messiah,  according  to  the  carnal  Jews,  should  have 
been  a  great  temporal  prince.  According  to  the  car- 
nal Christians,  he  is  come  to  release  us  from  the  obli- 
gation to  Jove  God,  and  to  give  us  Sacraments  effective 
without  our  concurrence.  The  one  is  not  the  Jewish 
religion;  the  other  is  not  the  Christian. 

True  Jews  and  true  Christians  have  equally  recog- 
nized a  Messiah,  who  inspires  them  with  the  love  of 
God,  and  causes  them  by  that  love  to  overcome  their 
enemies. 

14.  The  veil  that  is  upon  the  Scripture  to  the  Jews, 
is  there  also  to  the  false  and  ikithless  Christian,  and  to 
all  who  do  not  abhor  themselves.  But  how  well  dis- 
posed are  we  to  understand  the  record,  and  know  Jesus 
Christ,  when  we  do  cordially  hate  ourselves ! 

16.  The  carnal  Jews  occupy  a  middle  place  between 
Christians  and  he?.''hens.  The  heathens  knov/  not 
God,  and  love  this  world  only.  The  Jews  know  the 
true  God,  yet  love  this  world  only.  Christians  know 
the  true  God,  and  love  not  the  world.  The  Jew  and 
the  heathen  love  the  same  object.  The  Jew  and  the 
Christian  know  the  same  God. 

16.  Evidently  the  Jews  are  a  people  formed  express- 
ly to  be  witnesses  to  the  Messiah.  They  possess  the 
Scriptures,  and  love  them,  but  do  not  comprehend  them. 
And  all  this  has  been  expressly  foretold;  for  it  is  writ- 
ten, that  the  oracles  of  God  are  committed  to  them,  but 
as  a  book  that  is  sealed. 

Whilst  the  prophets  were  continued  for  the  preser- 
vation of  the  law,  the  people  neglected  it.  But  when 
the  line  of  prophets  failed,  the  zeal  of  the  people  arose 
in  their  stead.     This  is  a  wonderful  providence. 

17.  When  the  creation  of  the  world  began  to  be  a 
remote  event,  God  raised  up  a  cotemporary  historian, 
and  commissioned  a  whole  nation  to  preserve  his  work  ; 
that  this  history  might  be  the  most  authentic  in  the 
world ;  and  that  all  men  might  learn  a  tact  so  necessa- 
ry to  be  known,  and  whith  could  be  known  in  no  other 
way. 


THE  JEWS.  149 

18.  Moses  evidently  was  a  man  of  talent.  If  then 
he  had  purposed  to  deceive,  he  would  have  adopted  a 
course  not  likely  to  lead  to  detection.  He  has  done 
just  the  reverse  ;  for  if  he  had  put  forth  falsehoods, 
there  was  not  a  Jew  that  would  not  have  discovered 
the  imposture. 

Why,  for  example,  has  he  described  the  lives  of  the 
first  men  so  long-,  and  their  generations  so  few?  He 
might  have  veiled  his  fraud  in  a  multitude  of  genera- 
tions, but  he  could  not  in  so  few.  It  is  not  the  number 
of  years,  but  the  frequent  succession  of  generations, 
which  gives  obscurity  to  history. 

Truth  suffers  no"  change,  but  by  a  change  of  men. 
And  3'et  Moses  places  two  events  as  memorable  as 
possible — the  creation  and  the  flood — so  near,  that 
owing  to  the  paucity  of  generations,  they  were  almost 
tangible  things.  So  that  at  the  period  when  he  wrote, 
the  memory  of  these  events  must  have  been  quite  re- 
cent in  the  minds  of  all  the  Jews. 

Shem,  who  had  seen  Lamech,  who  had  seen  Adam, 
lived  at  the  least  to  see  Abraham  ;  and  Abraham  saw 
Jacob,  who  lived  to  see  those  who  saw  Moses.  Then 
the  deluge  and  the  creation  are  facts.  This  is  coti- 
clusive  to  those  who  comprehend  the  nature  of  such 
testimony. 

The  length  of  the  patriarchal  life,  instead  of  operat- 
ing to  the  loss  of  historic  facts,  served  to  preserve 
them.  For  the  reason  why  we  are  not  well  versed  in 
the  history  of  our  ancestors,  is  commonly  that  we  have 
seldom  lived  with  them ;  or  that  they  died  before  we 
reached  maturity.  But  when  men  lived  so  long,  child- 
ren lived  a  long  time  with  their  parents,  and  necessa- 
rily conversed  much  with  them.  Now,  of  what  could 
they  speak,  but  of  the  history  of  their  ancestors  ?  For 
this  was  all  the  history  they  had  to  tell :  and  as  to 
science,  they  had  none,  nor  any  of  those  arts  which 
occupy  so  large  a  portion  of  human  intercourse.  We 
see  also,  that  in  those  days,  men  took  especial  care  to 
preserve  their  genealogies. 

19.  The  more  I   examine  the   Jews,  the   more    of 


1 50  THE  JEWS. 

truth  I  find  in  their  case,  and  the  more  plainly  I  dis- 
cover this  Scriptural  mark,  that  they  are  without 
prophets,  and  without  a  king  ;  and,  that  as  our  ene- 
mies, they  are  the  best  witnesses  to  the  truth  of  those 
prophecies,  in  v/hich  both  their  continuance  and  their 
blindness  is  foretold.  I  see  in  their  judicial  expul- 
sion, that  this  religion  is  divine  in  its  authority,  in  its 
continuance,  in  its  perpetuity,  in  its  morals,  in  its 
practice,  in  its  effects.  And  hence  1  stretch  forth  my 
bands  to  my  deliverer,  who,  having  been  predicted  for 
4000  years,  came  at  last  to  suffer  and  to  die  for  me, 
at  the  time,  and  under  all  the  circumstances  that  have 
been  predicted ;  and,  by  his  grace,  I  now  wait  for 
death  in  peace,  hoping  to  be  eternally  with  him. — 
And  I  ever  live  rejoicing,  either  in  the  blessings  which 
he  is  pleased  to  bestow,  or  in  the  sorrows  v/hich  he 
sends  for  my  profit,  and  which  I  learn  from  his  own 
example  to  endure. 

By  that  fact,  I  refute  all  other  religions.  By  that, 
I  give  an  answer  to  all  objections.  It  is  just  that  a 
pure  and  holy  God  should  not  reveal  himself,  but  to 
those  whose  hearts  have  been  puritied. 

I  find  it  satisfactory  to  my  mind,  that  ever  since  the 
memory  of  man,  here  is  a  people  that  has  subsisted 
longer  than  any  other  people  ;  that  this  people  has 
constantly  announced  to  man  that  they  are  in  a  state  of 
universal  corruption,  but  that  a  deliverer  will  come  ; 
and  it  is  not  one  man  that  has  said  this,  but  an  infinite 
number  :  a  whole  people  prophesying  through  a  pe- 
riod of  4000  years. 


OF  FIGURES.  151 


CHAPTER  XII. 


or    FIGURES. 


Some  figures  are  clear  and  demonstrative ;  others  are 
less  simple  and  natural,  and  tell  only  upon  those  who 
have  been  previously  persuaded  by  other  means. — 
These  last  resemble  the  prophetic  fissures  borrowed 
by  some  men  from  the  Apocalypse,  and  explained  ac- 
cording'to  their  own  views.  But  between  them  and 
the  true,  there  is  this  difference,  they  have  no  fig- 
ures that  are  unquestionably  established,  by  which  to 
support  their  interpretation.  It  is  very  unjust,  there- 
fore, to  pretend  that  theirs  are  as  well  sustained  as 
ours,  when  they  have  no  figures  of  established  inter- 
pretation to  refer  to  as  we  have.  The  two  cases  are 
not  parallel.  Men  should  not  parallelize  and  confound 
two  things,  because  in  one  respect  they  appear  simil- 
ar, seeing  that  in  another,  they  are  so  different. 

2.  One  of  the  main  reasons  why  the  prophets  have 
veiled  the  spiritual  blessings,  which  they  promised, 
under  the  t3^pe  of  temporal  blessings,  is,  that  they  had 
to  deal  with  a  carnal  people,  and  to  commit  to  their 
care  a  spiritual  deposit. 

Jesus  Christwas  typically  represented_by  Joseph^_ 
the'beloved  ot  hisTather,  sent  by  his  father  to  seek 
for  his  brethren :  innocent,  yet  sold  by  his  brethren, 
for  twenty  pieces  of  silver;  and,  by  that  means,  con- 
stituted their  Lord,  their  Saviour;  the  Saviour  of 
strangers ;  the  Saviour  of  the  world ;  which  he  could 
not  have  been,  but  for  the  purpose  to  destroy  him,  and 
the  sale,  and  the  abandonment,  of  which  his  brethren 
were  guilty. 

Joseph  was  innocent^and  imprisoned  with  two  crim- 
inals. J  esus  wa^  crucified  between  two  robbers.  To^ 
^seph  foretold  to  men,  in  the  same  circumstances,  the 
saving  of  the  one,  and  the  death  of  the  other.      Jesus 


152  OF   FIGURES, 

saved  one,  and  left  the  other  to  his  fate,  though  both 
were  guilty  of  the  same  crime.  Joseph,  however, 
could  only  foretel.  Jesus  fuliilled  also.  Joseph  also 
requested  him  who  was  to  be  saved,  to  remember  him 
when  he  was  come  to  prosperity;  and  he  whom  Jesus 
Christ  saved,  prayed  that  he  would  remember  him 
when  he  came  to  his  kingdom. 

3.  Grace  is  the  type  of  glory^    It  is  ^not__its£l£_ih£^ 
ultimate  enTH     G^race  was  typified  by  the    law,  and   is 
itself  Fypic'al  of  glory  ;  but  so  as  to  be,    at    the    same 
time,  a  means  of  obtaining  that  glory. 

4.  The  syngo-Qo-iie  is  "j;^.|[_Jli^'^S'^^^*^'^  d^str'"^Ycd,  be- 
cause  it  was  a  type  Qf  tl^p.  church  :  but  because  iflvas^^ 
only  a  type,  it  has  fallen  into  bondage.  The  type  was 
continued  till  the  reality  came,  that  the  church  might 
■be  always  visible,  either  in  the  shadow  or  in  the  sub- 
stance. 

6.  To  prove,  at  once,  the  authority  of  both  Testa- 
ments, we  need  only  inquire,  if  the  prophecies  .of  flip 
one,  are  accomplished  in  the  other.  "^ 

To  examine  the  prophecies,  we  should  understand 
them;  for,  if  they  have  but  one  meaning,  then  cer- 
tainly the  Messiah  is  not  come ;  but  if  they  have  a 
double  sense,  then  as  certainly  he  is  come  in  Jesus 
Christ. 

The  question  then  is.  Have  they  a  twofold  meaning? 
Are  they  types,  or  literal  realities?  that  is,  are^~we 
to  inquire  for  something  more  than  at  first  appears,  or 
must  we,  invariably,  rest  satisfied  with  the  literal  sense 
which  they  directly  suggest  ? 

If  the  law  and  the  sacrifices  were  the  ultimate  real- 
ity, they  must  be  pleasing  to  God;  they  could  not  dis- 
please him.  If  they  are  typical,  they  must  both  please 
and  displease  him.*  Now,  throughout  the  Scripture, 
they  appear  to  do  both.  Then  they  can  only  be  typ- 
ical. 

6.  To  discern  clearly  that  the    Old   Testament   is 


That  is,  according  to  the  circumstances  of  different  cases. 


OF  FIGURES.  153 

fi^rative,  and  that  b}Mtem£OLaLMessing^s  the  proph- 
ets  meaii  something  jnrther7we  need  onlj"noHce^Tm7r 
That  it  would  bcbeaeath  the~t)eity,  to^all  men  on- 
Iv  to  the  en]oymen^oi  temporal  happiness.  Second Di7~ 
That  the  langruage  o_f  the  prophets  most  distinctly  es* 
presses  the  promise  of  temporal  good,  whilst  thej,  at 
tlTe  same  time  declare.  thnt_J_hp.7r  discourses  are  reajly 
obscure  ;  that  the  ostensible  meanino;  is  not  th^  r^ 
one,  and  that  it  would  not  be  understood  till  the  latter 
days.  (Jeremiah  xsiii.  20.)  Then  evidently  thfi^ 
sjeak  of  other  sacrifices,  and  another  Redeemer. 

Besides,  their  discourses  are  contradictory  and  sui- 
cidal, ^f  by  the  words  laoD  and  sacrifice^  tliey  under- 
stood  only  the  law  and/sacriHces  of  Moses.  There 
would  be  a  manliest  an3"  gross  contradiction  in  their 
writings,  and  sometimes  even  in  the  same  chapter; 
whence,  it  follows,  that  they  must  mean  something 
else. 

7.  It  is  said  that  the  law  shall  be  changed  ;  that  the 
sacritir.p  shal^  he  chantred  ;  TKat  th6V"^liaTr  be  ^without 
a^Jang,  without  a  prince,  without  a  sacrifice  ;  that  a 
new^ovenajit  shaUbe_estahlTslip^  ;  thnt  ih^re^  shall  be 
a  new  law  ;  that  tEi~precepts  which  they  had  receiy- 
eywere"'noto-ood]  that  their  sacrifices  were  an  abomi- 
nation ;  that  G"od  had  not  required  ttiem.     '  ~        ' 

"  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  said,  that  the  law  shall  en- 
dure for  ever;  that  this  covenant  is  an  everlasting 
c^Qvea^nt  ;  that  the  sacrifice"  snail  De  perpetual  ; 
that  the  ^'  sceptre  should  neyer__l£iLK.e-  'febeoi,  see- 
ing that  it  could  not  depart  till  thearrival 'of  the 
F.v^pr]n>;Tipa-  KinoT — Du  theistrpassages'proye  the  then 
present  system  to  be  the  substance  ?  No  !  They  on- 
ly shew  that  it  is  either  a  substance,  or  a  figure  ;  but 
as  the  former  passages  conclude  against  the  reality, 
they  shew  that  the  law  is  a  figure. 

All  these  passages,  taken  together,  cannot  be  predi- 
cated of  the  substance  ;  all  may  be  affirmed  of  the 
shadow.  Then  they  do  not  relate  to  the  substance, 
but  to  the  shadow. 

8.  To  ascertain  whether  the  law  and  its  sacrifices 
be  the  substance,  or  a  figure,  we  should  examine  if 


154  OF  FIGURES. 

the  views  and  thoughts  of  the  prophets  terminated  in 
these  things,  so  that  thej  contemplated  only  this  origi- 
narcovenant ;  or  whether  they  did  not  look  for  some- 
thing beyond,  of  which  these  were  a  pictural  repre- 
*sentation  ;  for  in  a  portrait  we  see  the  thing  present- 
ed typically.  With  this  view,  we  have  onl}^  to  exam- 
ine what  they  say. 

When  they  speak  of  the  covenant  as  everlasting, 
do  they  mean  to  speak  of  that  covenant,  of  which 
they  athrm  that  it  shall  be  changed  ?  and  so  of  the  sac- 
rifices, &.C. 

9.  The  prophets  say  distinctly,  that  Israel  shall  al- 
ways be  loved  of  God,  and  that  the  law  shall  be  eter- 
nal. They  say  also,  that  their  meaning  in  this  is  not 
comprehended,  and  that  it  is,  in  fact,  hidden. 

A  cypher,  for  secret  correspondence,  has  frequent- 
ly two  meanings.  If,  then,  we  intercept  an  important 
letter,  in  which  we  find  a  plain  meaning,  and  in  which 
it  is  said,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  sense  is  hidden, 
and  obscured,  and  that  it  is  so  veiled  purposely,  that 
seeing  we  might  not  see,  and  perceiving,  we  might 
not  understand;  what  would  we  think,  but  that  it  was 
written  in  a  cypher  of  two-fold  signification,  and  much 
more  so,  if  we  found  in  the  literal  sense  some  mani- 
fest contradictions  ?  How  thankful  should  we  be  then 
to  those  who  would  give  us  the  key  to  the  cypher,  and 
teach  us  to  discern  the  hidden  meaning,  especially 
when  the  principles  on  which  they  proceed  are  quite 
natural,  and  approved  principles  !  Jesus  Christ  and 
his  apostles  have  done  precisely  this.  They  have 
broken  the  seal:  they  have  rent  the  veil:  they  have 
disclosed  the  meaning:  they  have  taught  us  that 
man's  enemies  are  his  passions;  that  the  Redeemer 
was  a  spiritual  Redeemer;  that  he  would  have  two 
advents — the  one,  in  humiliation  to  abase  the  proud, 
the  other,  in  glory  to  elevate  the  humble  ;  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  both  God  and  man. 

10.  Jesus  Christ  taught  men,  that  they  were  lovers 
of  themselves;  that  they  were  enslaved,  blinded,  sick, 
miserable,  and  sinful ;  that  they  needed  him  to   deliv- 


OF  FIGURES.  155 

er,  enlighten,  sanctify,  and  heal  them  ;  and  that,  to  ob- 
tain this,  they  must  deny  themselves,  take  up  the 
cross,  and  follow  him  through  suffering  and  death. 

The  letter  killeth  :  the  sense  lies  hidden  in  the  cy- 
pher. A  suffering  Saviour ;  a  God  in  humiliation ; 
the  circumcision  of  the  heart ;  a  true  fast ;  a  true  sac- 
rifice ;  a  true  temple ;  two  laws ;  a  twofold  table  of 
the  law  ;  two  temples  ;  two  captivities  ; — there  is  the 
key  to  the  cypher  which  Jesus  Christ  has  given  tojjlgr 
■"  Christ  h'as  at  length  taughl;  us,  that,  these  things 
were  but  figures,  and  has  explained  the  true  freedom, 
the  true  Israelite,  the  true  circumcision,  the  true 
bread  from  heaven,  &c. 

11.  Each  one  finds  in  these  promises,  that  which 
lies  nearest  to  his  heart,  spiritual  or  temporal  bles- 
sings, God  or  the  creature ;  but  with  this,  difference, 
they  who  desire  the  creature,  find  it  promised,  but  with 
man}^  apparent  contradictions — with  the  prohibition 
to  love  it,  and  with  the  command  to  love  and  w^orship 
God  only ;  whilst  they  who  seek  God  in  the  promises, 
find  him  without  any  contradiction,  and  with  the  com- 
mand to  love  him  exclusivel}'. 

12.  The  origin  of  the  contrarieties  in    Scripture.,  is 
found  in  a  Deity  humbled  to  the  death  of  the  cross  ;  ^ 
Messiah,  by  means  ot  death,  triumphant  over  death; 
two  natures  in  Jesus  Christ ;    two    aHvents^    and~twg_ 
states  of  the  nature  of  man.       '  ' 

•"As  We  cannot~ascerTain  a  man's  character,  but  by 
reconciling  its  contrarieties,  and  as  it  is  not  sufficient 
to^  infer  from  a  train  of  congruous  qualities,  without 
taking  the  opposite  qualities  into  the  account,  so  to  de- 
termine the  meaning  of  an  author,  we  must  shew  the 
harmony  of  the  apparently  contradictory  passages. 
*  So  that  to  understand  the  Scripture,  there  must  be  a 
sense  in  which  the  seemingly  contradictory  passages 
agree.  It  is  not  enough  to  find  a  sense  which  is  borne 
out  by  many  analogous  passages  ;  we  must  find  one 
which  reconciles  those  that  seem  to  differ.  Every  au- 
thor has  a  meaning  with  which  all  seeminglj^  incongru- 
ous passages  harmonize,  or  he  has  no  meaning  at  aH. 


156  OF  FIGURES. 

We  cannot  say  that  the  Scriptures  or  the  prophets  have 
no  meaning.  They  had  too  much  good  sense  for  that. 
Then  we  must  look  out  for  a  meaning,  which  reconciles 
all  their  incongruities. 

Now  the  Jewish  interpretation  is  not  that  true  mean- 
ing ;  but,  in  Jesus  Christ,  alLilue^apparent  contradic- 
ti ons  completely  harmonize. 

The  JcAvs  would  not  know  how  to  reconcile  the  ter- 
mination of  the  kingdom  and  principality  predicted  by 
Hosea,  with  the  prophecy  of  Jacob. 

If  we  take  the  law,  the  sacrifices,  and  the  kingdom 
for  the  ultimate  realit}^,  it  were  impossible  to  recon- 
cile all  the  assertions  of  the  same  author,  the  same 
book,  or  the  same  chapter.  This  sufficiently  indicates 
the  meaning  of  the  writer. 

13.  It  was  not  allowed  to  sacrifice  out  of  Jerusalem, 
which  was  the  place  that  the  Lord  had  chosen,  nor 
even  to  eat  the  tenths  elsewhere. 

Hosea  predicted  that  they  should  be  without  a  king 
without  a  prince,  without  a  sacrifice,  and  without  a  ser- 
aphim. This  is  now  accomplished,  for  they  cannot  le- 
gally sacrifice  out  of  Jerusalem. 

14.  When  the  word  of  God,  which  is  necessarily 
true,  if  false  literall}',  it  is  true  spiritually.  Sit  thou  on 
my  right  hand.  Literally  this  is  false  :  it  is  spiritually 
true.  The  passage  speaks  of  God  after  the  manner  of 
men,  and  means  no  more  than  that  God  has  the  same 
intention,  as  men  have  when  they  cause  another  to  sit 
at  their  right  hand.  It  indicates  the  purpose  of  God, 
not  the  mode  of  fulfilling  it. 

So  when  it  is  said,  God  has  received  the  odour  of 
your  incense,  and  will  recompense  you  with  a  good  and 
fruitful  land  ;  it  is  only  affirmed,  that  the  same  inten- 
tion, which  a  man  has,  who,  pleased  with  your  incense, 
prom'ses  a  fruitful  land,  God  will  have  tor  you,  because 
you  have  had  the  same  intention  with  respect  to  him, 
that  a  man  has  to  him  to  whom  he  gives  perfume. 

J  5..  The  end  of  the  commandment  is  charity.  What- 
ever in  it  appears  to  fall  short  of  this  end  is  figurative  ; 
for  since  there  is  but  one  end,  all  that  does  not  bear 
upon  it  in  express  terms,  must  do  so  figuratively. 


OF  FIGURES.  157 

God  diversifies  the  mode  of  inculcating  this  one  pre- 
cept, to  satisfy  that  weakness  in  us,  which  seeks  vari- 
ety, by  giving  a  variet}'  which  leads  us  ever  towards 
the  one  thing  needful.  For  one  thing  only  is  necessa- 
ry, and  we  love  variety ;  God  has  met  both  dilhcul- 
ties,  by  giving  a  variety  which  leads  to  that  one  thing 
needful. 

16.  The  Rabbins  only  regard  as  figurative,  the 
breasts  of  the  spouse,  and  such  things  as  do  not  literally 
express  the  sole  object  of  temporal  good  which  they 
have  in  view. 

17.  There  are  men  who  see  plainly  that  the  only 
enemy  of  man  is  his  concupiscence,  which  leads  him 
away  iVom  God ;  and  that  the  only  good  is  not  a  fertile 
land,  but  God.  As  for  those  who  believe  that  man's 
supreme  joy  is  in  the  flesh,  and  his  bane  in  that  which 
robs  him  of  sensual  delight,  let  them  take  their  fill  and 
die ;  but  for  those  who  seek  God  with  all  their  heart, 
who  have  no  sorrow  but  absence  from  him,  and  no  de- 
sire but  to  enjoy  him,  no  enemies  but  those  who  hinder 
their  approach  to  him,  and  who  mourn,  that  by  such  en- 
emies, they  are  surrounded  and  oppressed  ;  let  them 
be  comforted.  For  them  there  is  a  deliverer ;  for  them 
there  is  a  God.  A  Messiah  has  been  promised  to  de- 
liver man  from  his  enemies.  A  Messiah  is  come,  but 
it  is  to  deliver  him  from  his  iniquities. 

18.  When  David  foretels  that  the  Messiah  shall  de- 
liver his  people  from  their  enemies,  a  carnal  mind 
might  understand  him  to  mean  the  Egyptians  ;  and  in 
that  case,  I  could  not  shew  that  the  prophecy  was  ac- 
complished. But  it  is  very  possible  also,  to  understand 
that  he  meant  our  iniquities.  For  in  truth,  the  Egyp- 
tians are  not  men's  real  enemies,  but  their  iniquities 
are.     The  term  eneimj  then  is  equivocal. 

But  if,  in  common  with  Isaiah  and  others,  he  says 
also,  that  Messiah  shall  deliver  his  people  from  their 
iniquities^  then  the  ambiguity  is  removed,  and  the 
equivocal  sense  of  the  word  "  enemy,"  is  reduced  to 
the  simple  sense  %i  iniquities.  If  he  had  really  meant 
sins,  he  might  properly  convey  the  idea  by  the  term 
13 


158  OF  FIGURES. 

enemies  ;  but  if  enemies  were  his  simple  meaning',  ini- 
quities would  not  express  it. 

Now,  Moses,  David,  and  Isaiah,  all  use  the  same 
teim=.  AVbo  then  is  prepared  to  say  that  the^  have 
not  the  same  meaning-,  and  that  the  meaning  of  David, 
who,  bej^ond  a  doubt,  intends  iniquities,  when  he  speaks 
of  enemies,  is  not  the  same  with  that  of  Moses  when 
he  speaks  of  enemies  ? 

Daniel  in  chapter  ix.  prays  for  the  deliverance  of 
his  people  from  the  bonditge  of  their  enemies;  but  he 
evidently  meant  their  sins:  and  in  proof  of  this,  we 
find  it  said,  that  Gabriel  came  to  assure  him  that  his 
prayer  was  heard,  ;md  that  but  seventy  v»^eeks  were 
deteimined  to  finish  the  transgression,  and  to  make  an 
end  of  sins  ; — and  that  then  the  Redeemer — the  Holy  of 
Holies,  should  bring  in  an  everlasting  righteousness — 
a  righteousness,  not  merely  legal,  but  eternal. 

When  once  this  mystery  of  a  two-- old  meaning  is 
disclosed  to  us,  it  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  it. 
Read  the  Old  Testament  with  this  notion,  and  see  if 
the  sacrifices  wore  the  true  sacrifice  ;  if  descent  from 
Abraham  was  the  true  cause  of  the  love  of  God  :  if 
the  land  of  promi-^ewere  the  true  place  of  rest:  cer- 
tainl}^  not.  Then  they  we}  e  types;  Look  then  in  the 
same  way  at  all  i\\e.  ordained  ceremonies,  and  all  the 
commandments  ^vhich  speak  not  directly  of  love;  you 
will  find  them  all  typical.'' 


■*  The  snl->jcci  o^  iyus  in  Ihc  Old  T(  stameni  has  bctii  a  fer- 
tile theme  ol  tpeculalion.  I(  may  not  be  ivit'evant  or  useless 
to  Introduce  here  some  remarks  of  Erueeli  on  Ihe  '•' Blements 
of  hiterpretalioD,"  ^vilh  auoteby  the  luai^lator,  Tiofessor 
Stu:  )  I. 

Proptdy  spccllng^  there  /.v  'no  hjpkal  sense  of  v:oi(h.  Types 
are  not  words  but  ihings.  \,  liich  God  has  dcsigijaied  as  signs  of 
future  events.  NoV  '\h  any  .special  pains  iKxo&ary  for  the  in- 
terpretation of  them.  The  explanation  of  them.  Avhich  the 
Holy  Spirit  hims(  If  has  given,  renders  tli(  ;ii  intelligible.  Ue- 
yond  hi?  instruction.-  on  this  subject,  a.  c  should  be  very  care- 
ful never  to  procet  d.  As  for  those,  who  maintain  a  ty})ical  de- 
sign in  all  parts  ol"  the  ftcriptuie,  ihey  certaiuly  di&play  \eiy 


J 


JESUS  CHRIST.  159 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

JESUS  CHRIST. 

The  infinite  distance  between  body  andjDind,  ^]i2_^ 
ratively  represenj^g  the  infinitely  more  inlinite  ._dls- 
tnnr.p  f^etween  niere  intellect,  and  pure  love  ;  for  that 
love  issupernaturar  ' 

The  pomp  of  external  show  has  no  attraction  to 
men  engaged  deeply  in  intellectual  research.  The 
greatness  of  intellectual  men  is  imperceptible  to  the 
rich,  to  kings  and  conquerors  who  are  but  carnally 
great.  The  grandeur  of  that  wisdom,  which  comes 
from  God,  is  invisible  both  to  merely  sensual,  and 
merely  intellectual  men.  Here  then  are  three  differ- 
ent orders  of  distinction. 

Great  minds  have  their  peculiar  empire,  their  re- 
nown,  their  conquests.      They  need  not  the   sensual 


nttle  judg-menl  or  consideration  ;  for  tliey  lay  open  the  way  for 
the  mere  arhilrary  introduction  of  types  into  every  part  of  the 
Bible.  The  design  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  the  mention  of  this 
or  that  thing-  in  the  Scriptures,  can  be  understood  only  so  far  as 
he  himself  has  explained  it^  or  afforded  obvious  grounds  of  ex- 
planation. 

If  it  be  asked.  How  far  are  we  to  consider  the  Old  Testa- 
ment as  typical  ?  I  should  answer,  without  any  hesitation  ; 
jtist  so  much  of  it  is  to  be  regarded  as  typical,  as  the  New 
Testament  affirms  to  be  so;  and  wo  more.  The  fact,  thart  any 
thing  or  event  under  the  Old  Testament  dispensation  was  de- 
signed to  prefigure  something  under  the  New,  caa  be  known  to 
us  only  by  revelatioii ;  and,  of  course  all  that  is  not  designated 
by  divine  authority  as  typical,  can  never  be  made  so,  by  any 
aulhority  less  than  that  which  guided  the  writers  of  the  Scrip- 
tures.    Ernesll^  &c.  }  25. 

See  also  Jahn's  Archaeology,  {  310. 

An  ingenious  interpretation  according  to  Pascal's  views  of 
types,  may  be  seen  Chap.  xxi.  Sec.  31.  A.  E, 


160  JESUS  CHRIST. 

splendors  of  this  Avorld,  between  which,  and  the 
things  that  they  seek,  there  is  little  similarity.  It  is 
the  mind,  and  not  the  eye  which  appreciates  their  ex- 
cellence ;  but  then  this  satisfies  them. 

The  saints  also  have  their  empire,  their  renown, 
their  g-reatness,  and  their  victories,  and  need  not  ei- 
ther sensual  or  intellectual  splendor,  to  make  them 
great.  Such  things  are  not  of  their  order,  and  neither 
increase  nor  diminish  the  greatness  which  they  seek. 
God  and  his  angels  discern  them,  whilst  to  the  bodily 
eye,  or  the  philosophic  mind,  they  are  alike  invisible  ; 
but  to  them,  God  is  every  thing. 

Archimedes  is  venerated  independently  of  the  dis- 
tinction of  his  birth.  He  won  no  Battles ;  but  he  has 
given  some  wonderful  inventions  to  the  world.  How 
great,  how  illustrious,  is  he  to  the  scientific  mind  ! 

Jesus  Christ,  without  wealth,  wijhout.the  adventj- 
ti^i£"distincUcLn__o£_scientitic  discol^e^y^J_comes-ift^Ha 
ojNdcr — that  of  ]ioImess7  He  publishesno  inventions, 
he  \vears  no  crown  ;  but  he  was  humble,  patient,  ho- 
ly in  the  sight  of  God,  terrible  to  wicked  spirits,  and 
free  from  sin.  But  in  what  mighty  splendor,  and  with 
what  prodigious  magnificence  has  he  come  forth  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  heart — the  optics  of  true  wis- 
dom. 

Although  Archimedes  was  of  princely  birth,  it 
would  have  been  idle  to  have  brought  this  forward  in 
his  book  of  geometry. 

It  had  been  useless  also  for  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to 
come  on  earth  as  a  monarch,  in  order  to  add  dignity 
to  the  reign  of  holiness.*  But^how  becoming  is  the 
peculiar  luitre  of  his  own  order. 

It  is  folly  indeed  to^Be^offeruTed  at  the  low  condition 
of  Jesus  Christ,  as  if  that  meanness  were  of  the  same 
order  with  the  glory  that  he  came  to  manifest.  Con- 
template that  grandeur  in  his  life,  in  his  passion,  in  his 


"^Tbat  is,  holiness  exhibited  alone  aud   independent  of  all 
adventitious  distinctions. 


JESUS  CHRIST.  161 

obscurity,  in  his  death,  in  the  choice  of  his  disciples, 
in  their  forsaking  him,  in  his  unseen  resurection,  and 
all  the  other  circumstances  of  his  case  ;  3'ou  will  find 
him  so  truly  great,  that  there  is  little  cause  to  com- 
plain of  meanness.     It  has  no  existence. 

But  there  are  men  who  can  only  admire  the  dis- 
tinctions of  external  pomp,  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
mental  excellence.  And  there  are  others  who  rever- 
ence only  intellectual  greatness  :  as  if  in  the  true  wis- 
dom there  w^ere  not  a  far  loftier  worth. 

All  organized  bodies,  the  heavens,  the  earth,  the 
stars,  taken  logethei-,  are  not  equal  in  value  to  the 
meanest  mind  ;  for  mind  knows  these  things  ;  it  knows 
itself:  but  matter  knows  nothing.  And  all  bodies,  and 
all  minds  united,  are  not  worth  one  emotion  of  love. 
It  is  of  an  order  of  excellence  infinitely  higher. 

We  cannot  elicit  from  universal  matter  a  single 
thought.  It  is  impossible.  Thought  is  of  a  higher 
order  of  creation.  Again,  all  bodies,  and  all  spirits 
combined,  could  not  give  Idrth  to  a  single  emotion  of 
real  love.  This  is  also  impossible.  Love  is  of  an- 
other and  slill  higher  order  of  being.  It  is  supernat- 
ural. 

2.  .Tpgng_Christ  lived  in  such  obscurity,  (we  use  the 
word  in  the  worldly  sense)  that  hislorians  who  record 
none  bat  important  events,  scarcely  discerned  him^ 

3.  What  man  ever  had  'more^renoxyn  thnn  ,Tp.g.|g 
Christ"?  The  whole  Jewish  people  foretold  his  com- 
ing.  The  Gentiles  when  he  came,  adored  him.  Both 
Jews  and  Gentiles  look  to  him  as  their  centre.  And 
yet  what  man  ever  enjoyed  so  little  of  such  a  fame. 
Out  of  thirty-three  years,  he  passed  thirty  unseen  ; 
and  the  remaining  three,  he  was  accounted  an  impos- 
tor. The  priests_and__rulers  of  his  nation  rejected 
him.  TTis  friends  anid~relations  despised  him  :  and  at~ 
length,  betrayed  by  one  ot  His  disciples,  denied  by  an- 
other, and  abandoned  by  all,  he  died  an  ignominious 
death. 

In  how  much,  then,  of  this  splendor  did  he  partici- 
pate ?     No  man  vv^as  ever  so  illustrious ;  no  man  was 
-  31? — ^ _ 


16^  JESUS  CHRIST. 

ever  SO  degraded :     but  all  this  lustre   was   for    our 
"sakes,  that  we  might  know  him;  none  for  his  own. 

4.  Jesus  Christ  speaks  of  the  most  sublime  subjects 
with  such  simplicity,  that  he  seems  not  to  have 
thought  on  them  ;  and  yet  with  such  accuracy,  that 
what  he  thought  is  distinctly  brought  out.  This  un- 
ion of  artlessness  with  perspicuit}^,  is  perfectly  beau- 
tiful. 

Who  taught  the  evangelists  the  qualities  of  a  truly 
heroic  mind,  that  they  should  paint  it  to  such  perfec- 
tion in  Jesus  Christ  ?  Why  have  they  told  of  his 
weakness  during  his  agony  ?  Could  they  not  describe 
a  resolute  death?  Undoubtedly.  St.  Luke  himself 
paints  St.  Stephen's  death  with  more  of  fortitude  than 
that  of  Christ.  They  have  shewn  him  to  be  capable 
of  fear,  before  the  hour  of  death  was  come  ;  but  af- 
terwards perfectlv  calm.  When  they  tell  of  his  being 
in  afJlicticsn,  that  sorrow  proceeded  from  himself;  but 
when  nie7i  afflicted  him,  he  was  unmoved. 

The  church  has  at  times  had  to  prove  to  those  who 
denied  it,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  man,  as  well  as  that 
he  was  God  ;  and  appearances  were  as  much  against 
the  one  truth  as  against  the  other. 

Jesus  Christ  is  a  God  to  whom  we  can  approach 
without  pride ;  and  before  whom  we  abase  ourselves 
without  despair. 

5.  The  conversion  of  the  heathen  was  reserved  for 
the  grace  of  the  Messiah.  Either  the  Jens  did  not 
try  it,  or  they  were  unsuccessful.  All  that  Solomon 
and  the  prophets  said  on  this  subject,  was  vain.  Their 
wise  men,  also,  as  Plato  and  Socrates,  could  not  lead 
them  to  worship  the  one  true  God. 

The  gospel  speaks  only  of  the  virginity  of  Marj^, 
up  to  the  period  of  the  Saviour's  birth.  Every  thing 
has  reference  to  Jesus  Christ. 

The  two  Testaments  contemplate  Jesus  Christ;  the 
one  as  its  expectation  ;  the  other  as  its  exemplar  ;  both 
as  their  centre. 

The  prophets  predict,  but  were  not  predicted.  The 
saints  were  predicted,  but  do  not  predict.  Jesus 
Christ  predicts,  and  is  predicted. 


PROPHETICAL  PROOFS  OF    JESUS  CHRIST.  1  G3 

Jesus  Christ  for  all  men  ;  Moses  for  one  people. 

The  Jews  are  blessed  in  Abraham  ;  /  tci//  bless  them 
that  bless  thee.  Gen.  xii.  3.  But  all  nations  are  blessed 
in  his  seed.  Gen.  xviii.  18.  He  is  a  light  to  lighten  the 
Gentiles.  Luke  ii.  32. 

He  has  not  done  so  to  any  nation.^  (Psalm  cxlvii.  20.) 
said  David,  when  speaking  of  the  law.  But  in  speak- 
ing- of  Jesus  Christ,  we  may  say,  He  hath  done  so  to 
all  nations. 

Jesus  Christ  is  an  universal  blessing.  The  church 
limits  her  sacramental  services  to  the  apparently  faith- 
ful.    Christ  gave  himself  a  ransom  for  all. 

Let  us  then  open  our  arms  to  our  Redeemer,  who, 
having  been  promised  for  4000  years,  is  come  at  length 
to  suffer  and  to  die  for  us,  at  the  period,  and  under  all 
the  circumstances  predicted.  And  while,  through  his 
grace,  we  await  a  peaceful  death,  in  the  hope  of  being 
united  to  him  for  ever,  let  us  receive  with  joy  either 
the  prosperities  which  it  pleases  him  to  give,  or  the 
trials  that  he  sends  for  our  profit,  and  which,  from.hiss 
own  example,  we  learn  to  endure. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


PROPHETICAL  PROOFS  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


The  most  powerful    evidence    in    favor    of    Jesugf^ 
Christ,  is  the  prophecies ;    and  to  them  also   God  ap-~ 
p'ears  to  have  had  the  most  special  regard  ;  for  the  oc- 
currence of  those  events  which  fulfil  them,  is  a  miracle 
w^hich  has  subsisted  from  the  beginning  of  the  church 
to  the  end.      God  raised  up  a  succession  of  prophets,, 
during  a  period  of  1600  years,  and  during  four  subse- 
quent centuries,  he   scattered  these  prophecies,  with 
the  Jews  who  possessed  them,  throughout  all  parts  of^ 
the  world.     Such,  then,  was  the   preparation  for  the 
birth  of  Christ ;  for  as  his  gospel  was  to  be  believed 
by  all  the  world,  it  required  not  only  that  there  should 
be  prophecies  to  render  it   credible,  but  that  these 


164  PROPHETICAL  PROOFS 

prophecies  should  be  diffused  throughout  the  world,  in 
order  that  all  the  world  might  believe. 

If  one  individual  only  had  written  a  volume  of  pre- 
dictions respecting  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  time  and 
manner  of  his  coming,  and  then  Jesus  Christ  had 
come,  in  accordance  to  these  predictions,  the  proof 
would  be  iniinitely  powerful.  But  we  have  more 
than  this.  In  this  case  there  is  a  series  of  men  for 
4000  years,  who  constantly  and  without  discrepancy 
foretel  the  same  pdvent.  He  is  announced  by  a  whole 
people,  who  subsist  for  4000  years,  to  yield  a  succes- 
sive cumulative  te:-iJmony  to  their  certain  expectation 
of  his  coming;  and  from  whi<  h  neither  threat  nor  per- 
secution could  turn  them.     This  is  much  ampler  proof 

2.  The  appointed  period  was  predicted  hy  the  slate 
of  the  Jews,  by  the  state  of  the  heathen,  b}'^  the  state 
of  the  temple,  and  by   the  precise  number  of  years. 

The  prophels  hnving  given  several  signs  w^hich 
should  happen  at  the  coming  of  l\Iessiah,  it  follows 
that  all  signs  should  occur  at  the  same  time  ;  and  hence 
it  followed,  that  the  fourth  monarchy  should  be  come 
at  the  cxpitation  of  the  seventy  weeks  of  Daniel; 
that  the  sceptre  should  then  depart  from  Judah;  and 
that  then  Messiah  should  come.  At  that  very  crisis, 
Jesus  Christ  came,  and  declared  himi=;elf  the  Messiah. 

It  is  predicted,  that  during  the  Iburth  monarchy, 
before  the  destruction  of  the  second  temple,  before 
the  dominion  of  the  Jews  had  ceased,  and  in  tlie  sev- 
entieth week  ofDaniel,  the  heathen  should  be  in- 
structed and  led  to  the  knowledge  of  that  God,  whom 
the  Jews  worshipped,  and  they  who  loved  him,  should 
be  delivered  from  their  enemies,  and  tilled  with  his 
love  and  his  fear. 

And  it  did  happen,  that  during  the  fourth  monarchy 
and  before  the  destruction  of  the  second  temple,  mul- 
titudes of  the  heathen  worshipped  God,  and  lived  a 
heavenly  life  ;  women  devoted  to  God  their  virginity, 
and  their  whole  life  :  men  renounced  a  lile  of  pleasure  ; 
and  that  which  Plato  could  not  accomplish  with  a  few 
chosen  and  well  disciplined  individuals,   was    now  ef- 


OF  JESUS    CHRIST,  165 

fected  by  a  secret  influence,  operating  through  a    few 
words,  on  hundreds  of  thousands  of  illiterate  men. 

And  what  is  ali  this?  It  is  that  which  has  been 
foretold  long  before.  /  will  jjour  out  my  Spirit  upon 
alljiesh.  All  men  were  lying  in  wretchedness  and  un- 
belief Now  the  whole  earth  kindles  into  love.  Prin- 
ces laid  aside  their  splendor:  the  wealthy  parted  with 
their  abundance  :  girls  submitted  to  martyrdom  :  child- 
ren forsook  their  homes  to  live  in  the  deserts. — 
Whence  is  this  energy  ?  It  is  that  Messiah  has  come. 
This  is  the  effect  and  the  proof  of  his  arrival. 

For  2000  years  the  God  of  the  Jews  was  unknown 
to  the  countless  multitudes  of  the  heathen;  but,  at  the 
time  predicted,  the  heathen  rushed  in  crowds  to  wor- 
ship this  only  God.  The  temples  are  thrown  down  ; 
and  kings  themselves  bend  before  the  cross.  Whence 
comes  this  ?  The  Spirit  of  God  has  been  poured  out 
upon  the  earth. 

It  was  foretold  that  Messiah  should  come  to  estab- 
lish a  new  covenant,  which  should  cause  them  to  for- 
get their  departure  from  Egypt.  Jer.  xxiii.  7.  That 
he  should  write  his  law,  not  on  an  exterior  tablet,  but 
on  their  hearts,  Isaiah  li.  7.  ;  and  put  his  fear,  which, 
till  then,  had  been  only  superficial,  in  their  hearts  also. 
Jer.  xxxi.  33.  That  the  Jews  should  reject  Christ, 
and  that  they  should  be  rejected  of  God,  because  the 
chosen  vine  brought  forth  wild  grapes  only.  Isaiah  v. 
That  the  chosen  people  should  be  faithless,  ungrate- 
ful, and  incredulous, — an  .unhelieving  and  gainsaying 
people.  Isaiah  Ixv.  2.  That  God  should  smite  them 
with  blindness,  and  that  they  should  stumble  like 
blind  men  at  noon-day.  Deut.  xxviii.  That  the 
church  should  be  small  at  its  commencement,  and  in- 
crease gradually.     Ezek.  xlvii. 

It  was  foretold  that  then  idolatry  should  be  over* 
thrown  :  that  Messiah  should  overturn  all  the  idols, 
and  bring  men  to  the  worship  of  the  true  God.  Ezek. 
XXX.  13. 

That  the  temple  and  the  images  should  be  caused 
to  cease,  and  in  every  place  a  pure  offering  should  be 
offered,  and  not  the  blood  of  beasts.     Mai.  i.  1 1 


163  PEOFilllTICAL  PROOFS 

That  he  should  teach  men  the  perfect  way.  Isa.  ii. 
3.  Micah  iv.  2.  That  he  should  be  the  king,  both 
of  Jews  and  Gentiles.  Psalm  ii.  6 — 8.  Psalm  Ixxi. 
And  never  has  there  come  either  before  Jesus  Christ, 
or  since,  any  man  who  has  taught  any  thing  like  this. 

And  at  length,  after  so  many  individuals  have  pre- 
dicted this  advent,  Jesus  Christ  appeared  and  said,  I 
am  he,  and  the  time  is  fulfilled.  He  came  to  teach 
men  that  they  had  no  enemies  but  themselves;  that 
their  sinful  inclinations  separate  them  from  God; 
that  he  came  to  deliver  them',  te  give  them  grace, 
and  to  gather  all  men  into  one  holy  church  ;  to  unite 
in  this  church  both  Je^vs  and  Gentiles  ;  and  to  des- 
troy the  idols  of  the  one,  and  the  superstitions  of  the 
other. 

*•' What  the  prophet^  have  foretold,"  said  he,  "my 
apostles  will  shortly  accomplish.  The  Jews  shall  be 
rejected  ;  Jerusalem  will  soon  be  destroyed;  the  Gen- 
tiles shall  come  to  the  knowledge  of  God;  and  when 
you  shall  have  slain  the  heir  of  the  vineyard,  my 
apostles  shall  turn  irom  3'ou  to  them." 

Afterwards  we  find  the  apostles  saying  to  the  Jews — 
a  curse  is  coming  upon  you:  and  to  the  Gentiles,  you 
shall  know  the  Lord. 

To  this  dispensation  all  men  were  adverse,  owing 
to  the  natural  antipathy  of  their  sinfulness.  This  king 
of  both  Jews  and  Gentiles,  was  oppressed  by  both, 
who  conspired  to  kill  him.  All  that  was  mighty  in 
the  world,  (he  learned,  the  wise,  the  powerful,  all  con- 
federated against  thin  nascent  religion.  Some  wrote, 
some  censured,  and  others  shed  blood.  But  notwith- 
standing all  opposition,  in  a  short  time,  Vv^e  see  Jesus 
Christ  reigning  over  both, — destroying  the  Jewish 
worship  in  Jerusalem,  which  was  its  centre  and  erect- 
ing there  his  first  church ;  and  destroying  the  wor- 
ship of  idols  at  Rome,  where  idolatry  centred,  and  es- 
tablishing in  it  his  principal  church. 

The  apostles  and  the  primitive  Christians,  a  simple 
and  powerless  people,  resisted  all  the  powers  of  the 
earth;  overcame  monarchs,  philosophers,  and    sages, 


OF  JE£i;S    CHRIST.  157 

and  destroyed  an  established  idolatry.  And  all  this 
was  wrought  by  the  alone  energy  of  that  word  which 
had  foretold  it. 

The  Jews,  by  slaying  Christ,  that  they  might  not 
acknowledge  him  as  Blessjah,  have  completed  the 
proof  of  his  Messiahship.  Their  perseverance  in  de- 
nying him,  makes  irrefragable  witnesses  in  his  behalf. 
And  both  by  their  killing  him,  and  persisting  to  reject 
him,  they  have  fulfilled  the  prophecy. 

Who  does  not  recognize  Jesus  Christ  in  a  great  va- 
riety of  particulars  predicted  ofthe  Messiah?  For  itis 
said, 

That  he  should  have  a  forerimoer,  Mt»l.  i'i.  1.  That 
he  should  be  born  as  an  infant,  Isaiah  ix.  6.  That  he 
should  be  born  in  Bethlehem,  JMicah  v.  2.  That  he 
should  spring  from  the  family  oT  Judah  and  ot  David: 
that  he  shouJd  appear  chiefly  in  Jerusalem.  Mai.  iii.  1. 
Hag.  ii..lO.  That  he  should  hide  these  things  from 
the  wise  and  prudent,  and  reveal  them  to  the  poor  and 
to  babes  That  he  should  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind, 
should  heal  the  sick,  Isaiah  xxxv.  and  lead  those  who 
languished  in  darkness,  into  light,  Isaiah  xlii.  8,  9. 

That  be  should  teach  a  perfect  way,  and  be  the  in- 
structor ofthe  Gentiles,  Isaiah  Iv.  4. 

That  he  should  be  the  victim  offered  for  the  sins  of 
the  world,  Isaiah  li'i. 

That  he^should  be  the  precious  foundation  stone, 
Isaiah  xxviii.  26. 

That  he  should  be  a  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a  rock 
of  offence,  Isaiah  viii.  14. 

That  the  builders  shall  reject  this  stone,  and  that 
God  sha'l  make  it  the  head  stone  ofthe  corner.  Psalm 
cxviii.  22.  And  that  this  stone  shall  become  a  great 
mountain,  and  iill  the  earth,  Dan.  ii.  G5. 
•  That  he  should  be  rejected,  Psalm  cxviii.  22.;  dis- 
owned, Isaiah  liii.  2. ;  betrayed.  Psalm  xl.  9.;  sold, 
Zach.xi.  12.;  stricken,  Isaiah  I.  6.;  mocked  and  afflicted 
in  many  diilerent  ways.  Psalm  Ixix.  That  they  should 
give  him  gall  to  drink.  Psalm  Ixix.  21.;  that  they 
should  pierce  his  hands    and    his    feet.    Psalm     xxii. 


168  PROPHETICAL  PROOFS. 

16. ;  that  they  should  spit  upon  him,  Isaiah  I.  6. ;  and 
kill  him,  Dan.  ix. ;  and  cast  lots  for  his  vesture,  Psalm 
xxiL  18.  That  he  should  rise  a<,^aih  the  third  day, 
Psalm  xvi.  Hosea  vi.  2,  That  he  should  ascend  to 
to  heaven.  Psalm  xlvii.  5. — Ixviii.  18.  ;  and  sit  down 
at  the  right  hand  of'God,  Psalm  ex.  1.  That  the  kings 
of  the  earth  should  take  counsel  against  him.  Psalm 
ii.  That  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  he  should 
make  his  foes  his  footstool.  Psalm  ex.  1.  That  all  kings 
shall  fall  down  before  him — all  nations  shall  worship 
him.  Psalms  Ixxii.  That  the  Jews  should  subsist  per- 
petually as  a  people,  Jer.  xxxi.  36.  That  they  should 
wander  about,  Amos  ix.  9.  ;  without  a  prince,  without 
a  sacrifice,  without  an  altar,  Hosea  iii.  4. ;  and  without 
prophets.  Psalm  Ixxiv.  9.  ;  looking  for  redemption,  but 
looking  in  vain,  Isaiah  lix.  9.     Jer.  viii.  15. 

3.  The  Messiah  was  to  form  to  himself  a  numerous 
people,  elect  and  holy  ;  to  lead  them,  to  nourish  them, 
to  bring  them  into  a  place  of  rest  and  holiness ;  to  make 
them  holy  to  the  Lord,  to  make  them  the  temple  of 
God  ;  to  reconcile  them  to  God  ;  to  save  them  from 
the  wrath  of  God;  to  rescue  them  from  the  slavery 
of  sin,  which  evidently  reigns  over  men;  to  give  a  law 
to  them,  and  to  write  it  in  their  hearts  ;  to  oiler  himself 
to  God  for  them;  to  sacrifice  him  for  them  ;  to  be  both 
the  spotless  victim,  and  the  offering  priest;  he  was  to 
offer  himself,  both  his  body  and  his  blood  to  God. — 
Jesus  Christ  has  done  all  this. 

It  was  foretold  that  a  deliverer  should  come,  who 
should  bruise  the  serpent's  head,  who  should  deliver  his 
people  from  all  their  iniquities.  Psalm  cxxx.  8. ;  that  he 
should  establish  a  new  covenant,  which  should  be  ever- 
lasting ;  and  a  new  priesthood  after  the  order  of  Mel- 
chisedec,  to  abide  for  ever  ;  that  the  Messiah  should  be 
glorious,  powerful,  and  mighty,  and  yet  so  abject,  as 
to  be  disowned  ;  that  he  should  not  be  esteemed  for 
what  he  really  was ;  that  he  should  be  rejected, 
that  he  should  be  slain  ;  that  his  people  who  denied 
him,  should  be  his  people  no  longer ;  that  the  idola- 
trous Gentiles  should  believe,  and  fly  to  him  for  ref- 


OF  JESUS  CHRIST.  169 

uge  ;  that  he  should  abandon  Zion,  to  reign  in  the  centre 
of  idolatry  ;  that  the  Jewish  nation,  notwithstanding, 
should  still  subsist ;  and  that  this  person  so  predicted, 
should  spring  out  of  Judah,  at  the  time  when  the 
kingdom  ceased. 

4.  Now  consider,  that  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  the  expectation,  or  the  actual  worship,  of  Mes- 
siah, has  continued'  without  interval ;  that  he  was 
promised  to  the  first  man,  immediately  after  his  fall ; 
that  other  men  appeared  subsequently,  who  declared 
that  God  had  revealed  to  them  also,  that  a  Redeem.er 
should  beborn,v»'ho  would  save  his  people;  that  Abra- 
ham then  came,  who  affirmed  the  fact  of  a  revelation 
made  to  him,  that  the  Redeemer  should  descend  from 
hini,  by  a  son  of  his,  who  was  yet  unborn  ;  that  Jacob 
said,  that  out  of  his  twelve  sons,  Judah  should  be  the 
direct  ancestor  of  the  Messiah ;  that  Bloses  and  the 
prophets,  at  length  pointed  out  the  time  and  manner 
of  his  coming;  that  they  declared  the  then  present 
law,  to  be  only  a  provincial  appointment  till  the  com- 
ing of  Messiah  ;  that,  till  then  only  it  should  endure, 
but  that  the  other  should  last  for  ever ;  but  so  that 
either  the  old  law,  or  that  of  Messiah,  of  which  the 
first  was  a  typical  pledge,  should  be  ever  on  the  earth  ; 
that  such  has  been  the  fact ;  and  that  at  length  Jesus 
Christ  did  come,  in  circumstances  entirely  conformed 
to  all  these  minute  predictions.  Surely  this  is  won- 
derful ! 

But  it  will  be  said.  If  all  this  was  so  clearly  foretold 
to  the  Jews,  vfhy  did  they  not  believe,  or  why  are 
they  not  utterly  destroyed  for  having  resisted  so  clear 
a  testimony?  I  answer,  that  both  these  facts  are  in 
the  prediction  ;  both,  that  they  would  not  believe  this 
ample  testimony,  and  that  they  should  not  be  extermin- 
ated. And  nothing  could  more  effectually  subserve 
the  glory  of  Messiah;  for  it  was  not  sufficient  to  have 
the  testimony  of  prophecy  on  his  behalf;  but  those 
prophecies  must  be  preserved  in  circumstances  actual- 
ly free  from  the  slightest  taint  .of  suspicion. 

5.  The  prophetic  writings  have,  blended  with  the 

14 


170  OTHER  PRoors 

predictions  concerning  Messiah,  some  others  that  were 
local  and  peculiar,  in  order  that  the  prophecies,  con- 
cerning Messiah,  might  not  be  without  some  other  ev- 
idence ;  and  that  the  local  predictions  might  have  their 
use  in  the  sjstem. 

We  have  no  king  but  Caesar^  said  the  Jews.  Then 
Jesus  w^as  the  Messiah.  For  their  avowed  king  was 
an  alien,  and  they  recognized  no  other. 

A  doubt  hangs  on  the  beginning  of  the  seventy  weeks 
of  Daniel,  on  account  of  the  wording  of  the  prophecy 
itself;  and  also  on  the  termination  of  that  period,  ow- 
ing to  the  differences  among  chronologists.  But  the 
utmost  limits  of  the  difference  is  not  more  than  200 
years. 

The  prophecies  which  tell  of  Messiah's  poverty,  de- 
scribe him  also  as  lord  of  all  nations. 

The  prophecies  which  announce  the  time  of  his 
advent,  only  speak  of  him  as  the  king  of  the  Gentiles, 
and  as  a  sufferer ;  not  as  a  judge  coming  in  the  clouds 
of  heaven;  and  those  w^hich  describe  him  as  judging 
the  nations  on  his  throne  of  his  glory,  say  nothing  of 
the  precise  period  of  his  coming. 

When  they  speak  of  Messiah's  advent  in  glory,  it  is 
evidently  his  coming  to  judge  the  world,  not  to  redeem 
it.     Isaiah  Ixvi.  15,  16. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

O THER  PROOFS  OF  JESUS  CHRIST^ 

If  we  do  not  give  credit  to  the__api2Sll£S,  we  must 
hold  either  that  they  are  deceived  or  deceivers.  But 
either  alternative  has  it-  dilhculties.  In  the  first  case, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  be  cheated  into  a  belief,  that 
a  dead  man  had  risen  again;  and  in  the  other,  the 
supposition  that  they  were  themselves  impostors,  is 
very  absurd.  Let  us  follow  out  the  case.  Let  us 
suppose  that  these   twelve   men  assembling  after  the 


OF   JESUS  CIIHIST.  171 

death  of  Christ,  and  conspiring*  tog-ether  to  maintain 
that  he  had  risen  from  the  dead.  We  know,  that  by 
this  doctrine,  they  attacked  all  the  powers  of  this  world. 
The  heart  of  man  also  is  strongly  disposed  to  levity  ' 
and  to  change,  and  easily  influenced  by  promises  and 
gifts.  Now,  if  in  these  circumstances  of  risk,  but  one 
of  them  had  been  shaken  by  those  allurements,  or  what 
is  more  likely,  by  imprisonment,  torture,  or  the  pain  of 
death,  they  were  all  lost. 

While  Jesus  Christ  was  with  them,  he  could  sustain 
them ;  but  afterwards,  if  he  did  not  appear  to  them, 
who  did  encourage  them  to  action  ? 

2.  The  style  of  the  gospel  is  admirable  in  many  re- 
spects ;  and,  amongst  others,  there  is  not  a  single  in- 
vective indulged  by  the  historians  against  Judas  or 
Pilate,  or  any  of  the  enemies  or  murderers  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Had  this  delicacy  on  the  pa^t  of  the  evangelical  his- 
torians been  only  assumed,  together  with  all  the  other 
features  of  their  amiable  character ;  and  they  only  as- 
sumed it,  that  it  might  be  observed, — then,  even 
though  they  had  not  dared  in  some  way  or  other  to 
point  the  attention  to  it  themselves,  they  could  not 
have  failed  to  procure  some  friend  to  notice  it  to  their 
advantage.  But  as  they  were  quite  unaffected  and 
disinterested,  they  never  provided  any  one  to  make 
such  a  comment.  In  fact,  I  know  not  that  the  remark 
was  ever  made  till  now  ;  and  this  is  a  strong  proof  of 
the  simplicity  of  their  conduct. 

3.  Jesus  Christ  wrought  miracles  ;  so  did  his  apost 
ties.  'IJo  also  did  the  primitive  saints  ;  because,  as  the. 
prophecies  were_not  tultilled.  and  were  inj£ct__onlv 
i'uitiliing  in  them]7there  was  as  yet  no  testimonynto  jth^ 
truth  but  miracles^  It  was  foretold  that  Messial^ 
should  converTthe  nations.  Hojv  could  this  prophec^y; 
be  fulfilled  but  by  the  conversion  of  nations  ;  and  how 
w ere  the  tifst  nations  to  be  converted  to  Messiah , ^uot 
seeino;  this  conclusive  result  of  the  prophetic  testi^p^ 
ny  in  support  ofJiisjuissJQpJ?  Till  his  death  and  res- 
urrection,  then,  and  even  till  some  nations  had  been 


172  OTHER  PROOFS 

convei'ted,  the  whole  eviclence  was  not  complete ;  and 
hence  miracles  were  necessary  during  the  whoie  of 
that  time.  Nowj  however,  they  are  no  longer  needed. 
Prophecy  fuitillcd  is  a  standi  no-  miracle. 

4.  The  slate  of  the  Jews  strikingly  proves  the  truth 
of  our  religion.  It  is  wonderful  to  see  this  people,  sub- 
sisting for  so  man}'  centuries,  and  to  see  them  always 
wretched:  it  being  essential  to  the  evidence  in  sup- 
port of  Jesus  Christ,  that  they  should  subsist  as  witness- 
es to  him ;  and  that  they  should  be  miserable,  because 
they  slew  him.  And  though  their  misery  presses 
against  their  existence,  they  exist  still,  in  spite  of  their 
misery. 

But  were  they  not  almost  in  the  same  state  at  the 
time  of  the  captivity  ?  No.  The  continuance  of  the 
sceptre  was  not  interrupted  by  the  captivity  in  Baby- 
ion  ;  because  their  return  was  promised  and  predicted. 
"When  Nebuchadnezzar  led  them  captive,  lest  it  should 
he  supposed  that  the  sceptre  had  departed  from  Ju- 
dah,  it  was  previously  declared  to  them,  that  they 
should  be  there  for  a  short  time  only,  and  that  they 
should  be  re-established.  They  had  still  the  consola- 
tion of  their  prophets,  and  their  kings  were  not  taken 
away.  But  the  second  destruction  of  their  polity,  is 
•without  any  promise  of  restoration,  without  prophets, 
without  kings,  without  comfort,  and  without  hope  ; 
for  the  sceptre  is  removed  for  ever. 

That  was  scarcely  a  captivity  which  was  alleviated 
by  the  promise  of  deliverance  in  seventy  years  ;  but 
now  they  are  captive  without  hope. 

God  had  promised  them,  that  even  though  he  scat- 
tered them  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  yet  if  they 
were  laithful  to  his  law,  he  would  bring  them  back 
"again.  They  are  faithtul  to  the  law^,  and  yet  re- 
main in  oppression.  It  follows,  then,  that  Messiah 
must  be  come,  and  that  the  law  which  contained  these 
promises  had  been  superseded  by  the  establishment  of 
a  new  law. 

'  4.  Had  the  Jew^s  been  all  converted  to  the  faith   of 
Christ,  \ye  should  have  had    none    but  suspected  wit- 


or  JESUS  CHRIST.  173 

nesses,  and  had  they  been   extirpated,  we  should  have 
had  no  witnesses  at  all. 

The  Jews  rejected  Christ,  yet  not  all  of  them. — 
Those  who  were  holy  received  him ;  those  who  were 
carnal  did  not :  and  so  far  is  this  from  militating  against 
his  glory,  that  it  gives  to  it  the  finishing  touch.  The 
reason  of  their  rejection,  and  the  only  one  which  is 
found  in  their  writings,  in  the  Talmud,  and  in  the  Rab- 
bins, is  that  Jesus  Christ  did  not  subdue  the  nations  b}' 
force  of  arms.  "  Jesus  Christ,"  they  say,  "  has  been 
slain  ;  he  has  fallen ;  he  has  not  subdued  the  heathen 
by  his  might;  he  has  not  given  us  their  spoils,-  he 
has  given  no  wealth."  Is  that  all  they  can  say  ?  It  is 
for  this  that  I  love  him.  A  Messiah  such  as  they  de- 
scribe, I  have  no  wish  for. 

6.  How  delightful  it  is  to  see  with  the  eje  of  faith, 
Darius,  Cyrus,  Alexander,  the  Romans,  Pompey,  and 
Herod,  laboring  unwittingly  for  the  glory  of  the  gos- 
pel.. 

7.  The  Mohammedan  religion  has  for  its  foundation 
the  Koran  and  Mohammed.  But  has  this  man,  who 
was  said  to  be  the  last  prophet  expected  in  the  world, 
been  at  all  the  subject  of  prediction  ?  And  what 
mark  has  he  to  accredit  him,  more  than  any  other  man 
w^ho  chooses  to  set  up  for  a  prophet?  What  miracles 
does  he  himself  affirm  that  he  performed  ?  What 
mystery  has  he  taught,  even  by  his  own  account  ? — 
What  morality  did  he  teach,  and  what  blessedness  did 
he  promise. 

Mohammed  is  unsupported  by  any  authority.  His 
reasons  then  had  need  to  be  powerful  indeed,  since 
they  rest  solely  on  their  own  strength. 

8.  If  two  men  utter  things  which  appear  of  a  com- 
mon place  and  popular  kind,  but  the  discourse  of  one 
has  a  twofold  sense  understood  by  his  disciples,  whilst 
the  discourses  of  the  other  have  but  one  meaning  ; 
then  any  one,  not  in  the  secret,-  hearing  the  two  per- 
sons saying  similar  things,  would  judge  in  a  similar  way 
of  both.  But  if,  in  conclusion,  the  one  utters  heaven- 
Iv  things,  whilst  the  other   still    brings  forward  only 

14* 


174  '  OTHER  FRoors,  k,c. 


common-place,  and  mean  notions,  and  even  fooleries, 
he  would  then  conceive  that  the  one  spoke  with  a 
mystic  meaning-,  and  the  other  did  not;  tJie  one  hav- 
ing sufficiently  proved  himself  to  he  incapable  of  ah- 
surdity,  hut  capahle  of  having  a  mystic  sense;  the  oth- 
er, that  he  can  be  absurd,  but  not  a  setter  forth  of 
mysteries 

9.  It  is  not  by  the  obscurities  in  the  writings  of  Mo- 
hammed, and  which  they  may  pretend  have  a  mystic 
sense,  that  1  would  wish  him  to  be  judged,  but .  by  his 
plain  statements,  as  his  account  of  paradise,  ,and  such 
like.  Even  in  these  things  he  is  ridiculous.  Now,  it 
is  not  so  with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  They  also  have 
their  obscurities  ;  but  then  there  are  many  clear  and 
lucid  statements,  and  many  prophecies  in  direct  terms 
which  have  been  accomplished.  The  cases  then  are 
not  parallel.  We  must  not  put  on  an  equal  tooting, 
books  which  only  resemble  each  other  in  the  exist- 
ence of  obscurities,  and  not  in  those  briiliancies, which 
substantiate  their  own  divine  origin,  and  justly  claim 
a  due  reverence  also  for  the  obscurities,  by  which 
they  are  accompanied 
/^   The  Koran  itself  says    that    Matthew   was    a  good 

/  man.     Then  Mohammed  was  a  false  prophet,  eitherin 

/    calling  good  men  wicked,  or  in   rejecting    as    untrue, 

I    what  they  affirm  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Y  10.  Any  man  may  do  what  Mohammed  did  ;  for  he 
wrought  no  miracles,  he  fultilled  no  previous  prophecy. 
No  man  can  do  what  Jesus  Christ  did. 

Mohammed  established  his  system  by  killing  others; 
Jesus  Christ  by  exposing  his  disciples  to  death  ;  Mo- 
hammed b}^  ibrbidding  to  read ;  Jesus  by  enjoining  it. 
In  fact,  so  opposite  were  their  plans,  that,  if  accord- 
ing to  human  calculation,  Mohammed  took  the  way  to 
succeed — Jesus  Christ  certainly  took  the  way  of  fail- 
ure. And  instead  of  arguing,  that  because  Mohammed 
succeeded,  theretore  Jesus  Christ  might;  it  ibllows 
rather,  that  since  Mohammed  succeeded,  Christianity 
must  have  failed,  if  it  had  not  been  supported  by  an 
energy  purely  Divine. 


THE  EQUITY  OF  DIVINE  SOVEREIGNTY.  175 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  PURPOSE  OFT.ODTO  CoJyrF-AT.  HTMSy.T.ff  T-ROIVI^jOME,    AUD 
TO  REVEAL  HIMSELF  TO  OTHERS. 

It  was  the  purpose  of  God  to  redeem  mankind,  and 
to  extend  salva^on  to  those  who  will  seek  it.  But 
menrender  themselves  so  unworthy  of  it^  that  he  is 
f^7j[lTTiTiji]p.  in  refusing  to  some,  hecause  of  the  ttarHness 
of_their  hearts,  that  which  hej3estgjvs_jori^jthir  bj^  a 
mere}"  to  which  tKey  have  no  claim.  Had  he  chosen 
to  overcome  the  obstinacy  ot  the  most  hardened,  he 
could  have  done  so,  by  revealing  himself  to  them  so 
distinctly,  that  they  could  no  longer  doubt  the  truth  of 
his  existence.  And  he  will  so  appear  at  the  last  day, 
with  such  an  av/ful  storm,  and  such  a  destruction  of  the 
frame  of  nature,  that  the  most  blind  must  see  him. 

He  did  not,  however,  choose  thus  to  appear  at  the 
advent  of  grace  ;  because,  as  so  many  men  rendered 
themselves  unworthy  of  his  clemency,  he  determined 
that  they  should  remain  strangers  to  the  bl'essing  whicti. 
th'e^v  drg"not  desire.  It  would  not  then  have  been  just  to 
appear  in  a  mode  manifestly  divine,  and  such  as  abso-  - 
lutely  to  convince  all  men  ;  nor  would  it  have  been 
just  on  the  other  hand,  to  come  in  a  mode  so  hidden, 
that  he  could  not  have  been  recognized  by  those  who 
sought  him  in  sincerity.  It  was  his  will  to  make  him- 
self perfectly  cognizable  to  all  such ;  and  hence,  will- 
ing to  be  revealed  to  those  who  seek  him  with  their 
whole  heart,  and  hidden  from  those  who,  as  cordially 
fly  from  him,  he  has  so  regulated  the  means  of  know- 
ing him,  as  to  give  indications  of  himself,  which  are 
plain  to  those  who  seek  him,  and  shrouded  to  those 
who  seek  him  not.* 


*  The  pillar  of  cloud  and  of  fire,  is  a  beautiful  illustration  of 
this  idea. 


176  THE  EQUITY  OF 

2.  There  is  lio-ht  enough  for  those  whose  main  wish 


is  to  ^eeTand  darkness  enough  to  confound  those  of  an 
opposite  drsposition. 

There  is  brio-htness  enough  to  enlig-hten  the  elect, 
and  sufficient  obscurity  to  keep  themjiumble.. 

There  is  mystery  enough  to  blind  the  reprobate  ; 
but  light  enoug-h  to  condemn  them,  and  to  make  them 
inexcusable. 

If  this  world  subsisted  only  to  ieacli  men  the  exist- 
ence of  God,  his  divinity  would  have  shined  forth  in 
every  part  ofit  with  resistless  splendor.  But  sin-ce 
the  world  only  exists  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  for  him,  and 
to  teach  men  their  fall  and  their  redemption,  the  whole 
abounds  with  proofs  of  these  two  truths.  The  appear- 
ance of  things  indicates  neither  the  total  abandonment, 
nor  the  plenary  presence  of  the  Divinity,  but  the  pres- 
ence of  a  God  timt  hideth  himself.  Every  thing  wears 
this  character. 

If  God  had  never  appeared  at  all,  such  a  total  con- 
cealment might  have  been  ambiguous,  and  might  have 
been  referred  equally  to  the  non-existence  of  the  Dei- 
ty, as  to  the  unworthiness  of  men  to  know  him.  But 
his  occasional  manifestations  remove  the  ambiguit}'. 
If  he  has  appeared  once,  then  he  is  always.  And  we 
are  shut,  up  to  the  conclusion,  that  there  is  a  God,  and 
that  men  are  unworthy  of  his  manifested  presence. 

3.  The  purpose^ofjjod  was  more  to  rectify  thcLwill^ 
than  the  unclefsfandingjoFman.  Now,  an  unclouded 
brightness  would  have  satisfied  the  understanding,  and 
left  the  will  unreformed.  Had  there  been  no  obscuri- 
ty, man  would  not  have  been  sensible  of  his  corruption. 
Had  there  been- no  light,  man  would  have  despaired  of 
a  remedy.  It  is  then  not  only  equitable,  but  profitable 
for  us,  that  God  should  be  partly  hidden,  and  partly 
revealed ;  since  it  is  equally  dangerous  for  man  to 
know  God,  without  the  conciousness  of  his  misery  ;  or 
to  know  his  misery,  without  knowing  his  God. 

4.  All  things  around  man  teach  himLJiis  re^^  state  ; 
but  he  should  read  them  rightly.  For  it  is_not  true 
either  tJiat  God  is  wholly  revealell,  or  wEoliy  hidden.. 


DIVINE  SOVEREIGNTY.  •  177 

But  both  these  assertions  are  true  together,  that  he 
hides  himself  from  those  who  tempt  him,  and  that  he 
discovers  himself  to  those  who  seek  him.  Because 
men  are,  at  the  same  time,  unworthy  of  God,  and  yet 
capable  of  receiving  him;  unworthy  in  consequence 
of  their  corruption;  capable  by  their  original  nature. 

5.  Every  thing  on  earth  proclaims  the  misery  of 
man,  or  the  mercy  of  God  ;  the  powerlessness  of  man 
without  God,  or  his  might  when  God  is  with  him. 

The  whole  universe  teaches  man,  either  that  he  is 
corrupt,   or  that  he  is  redeemed.      Alj_. things  teach_^ 
him   his  greatness  or  his  misery       In  the  heathen  he 
sees  the  withdrawment  of  GoB  ;  in  the  Jews,  hispres^ 
encfe^and  protection. 

--gr"l^[Tr"tIiings  work  to.^ether  for  good  to  the  electj^ 
even  the  obscurities  otl^ripture  •  tor  ihev  reverence 
them  on  accpunt  of  those  portions  which  are  mani- 
festly Divine.  All  things  are  evil  to  the  reprobate, 
even  the  plainest  truths  of  Scripture,  because  they 
blaspheme  them  on  account  of  those  obscurities, 
which  they  cannot  comprehend. 

7.  If  Jesus  Christ  had  only  come  to  sanctify  and 
save,  the  whole  of  Scripture,  and  all  other  things, 
would  have  tended  to  that  object,  and  it  would  have 
been  easy  indeed  to  convince  the  infidel.  But  since, 
as  Isaiah  says,  chap.  viii.  14.  he  became  both  as  a 
sanctuary  (for  salvation)  and,  a  rock  of  offence^  we  can- 
not expect  to  overcome  the  obstinacy  of  infidelitj^ 
But  this  does  not  militate  against  us,  since  we  our- 
selves affirm,  that  God's  dealings  with  us  were  not 
meant  to  carry  conviction  to  those  stubborn,  self-satis- 
fied spirits,  v/ho  do  not  sincerely  seek  for  truth. 

Jesus  is  come,  that  those  who  see  not^  may  see;  and 
that  those  who  see^  may  become  blind.  He  came  to  heal 
the  diseased,  and  let  the  whole  perish :  to  call  siriners  to 
repentance  and  justification,  and  to  leave  the  righteous^ 
those  who  think  themselves  righteous,  in  their  sins  : 
to  Jill  the  hungry  with  good  things^  and  to  send  the  rich 
empty  away. 

What  say  the  prophets  of  Jesus  Christ  ?    That  he 


178  THE  EQUITY  OF  ' 

should  be  manifestly  God  ?  No.  But  that  he  is  the 
true  God  veiled  ;  that  he  shall  be  unrecognized  ;  that 
men  shall  not  think  that  this  is  he  ;  that  he  shall  be  a 
stone  of  stiunbling^  on  which  many  sfiallfall. 

It  is  that  Messiah  might  be  known  by  the  good,  and 
unknown  by  the  wicked,  thrt  he  is  foretold  as  he  is. 
If  the  mode  of  his  coming  had  been  fully  unfolded, 
there  would  have  been  no  obscurity  even  to  the  wick- 
ed. If  the  period  had  been  foretold  obscurely,  there 
would  have  been  darkness  on  the  minds  of  the  good, 
for  their  mortal  state  would  not  convey  to  them  the 
idea  of  Hebrew  notation ;  for  instance,  that  a  single 
letter  should  signify  600  years.  The  time  therefore 
was  foretold  plainly — the  mode  mystically. 

Thus,  the  wicked  erroneously  supposing,  that  the 
blessings  promised  were  temporal,  were  misled,  al- 
though the  time  was  so  distinctly  foretold ;  while  the 
righteous  avoided  the  error,  because  the  comprehen- 
sion of  such  blessings  is  with  the  heart,  which  always 
calls  that  good,  that  it  really  loves;  but  the  knowledge 
of  the  time  was  not  a  matter  for  the  comprehension 
of  the  heart.  And  thus  the  clear  pointing  out  of  the 
time,  together  wdth  an  obscure  description  of  the 
blessing,  could  only  mislead  the  wicked. 

8.  Why  was  it  necessary  with  respect  to  Messiah, 
that  it  should  be  stated  of  him,  that  in  him  the  scep- 
tre was  to  remain  perpetually  in  Judah  ;  and  yet,  that 
at  his  coming,  the  sceptre  should  be  taken  from  Ju- 
dah ? 

As  a  provision.  That  seeing^  they  might  not  see  ;  and 
that  hearings  they  might  not  understand^  nothing  could 
be  more  effectual. 

Instead  of  lamenting  that  God  is  hidden,  we  should 
thank  him  that  he  has  not  revealed  himself  to  the  pru- 
dent and  the  proud  of  this  world,  who  were  unworthy 
to  know  a  holy  God. 

9.  The  genealogy  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, is  blended  with  so  many  others  apparently 
useless,  as  to  be  scarcely  discernible.  If  Moses  had 
only  registered  the   ancestry  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  fact 


DIVINE  SOVEREIGNTY.  179 

would  have  been  too  plainly  exhibited.  But  even  to 
an  accurate  observer,  it  may  be  distinctly  traced 
through  Thamar,  Ruth,  Bathsheba,  &c. 

Even  the  apparently  weak  points  in  the  chain  of 
evidence,  have  their  peculiar  force  to  a  well  constitu- 
ted mind.  Witness  the  two  genealogies  by  Matthew 
and  Luke,  which  prove  that  there  has  not  been  collu- 
sion. 

10.  Let  them  not  reproach  us  any  longer,  with  the 
want  of  clearness  in  our  evidence.  We  own  the  fact 
as  part  of  our  system.  But  let  them  recognize  the 
truth  of  out  religion,  even  in  its  obscurities,  in  the 
little  light  that  we  have  ;  and  in  the  indifference  re- 
specting the  discovery  of  it,  which  is  so  generally 
manifested. 

Had  there  been  but  one  religion,  God  would  have 
been  too  manifest.  The  case  were  the  same,  if  our 
religion  only  had  its  martyrs. 

Jesus  Christ  so  far  left  the  wicked  to  their  wilful 
blindness,  in  that  he  did  not  say  he  was  not  of  Naza- 
reth, nor  that  he  was  not  the  son  of  Joseph. 

As  Jesus  Christ  dwelt  unrecognized  among  men,  so 
the  truth  dwells  undistinguished  among  the  crowd  of 
vulgar  opinions. 

If  the  mercy  of  God  is  so  great,  that  it  makes  us 
wise  unto  salvation,  even  while  he  hideth  himself, 
what  illumination  may  we  not  expect  when  he  is  fully 
revealed  ! 

We  can  know  nothino:  ofthework  of  God^  if  we 
do  not  admit  as  afirst  principle,  tha^  he  blinds  some. 
while  he  enligtitens_^others.  ' 


180  THE  INDENTITY   OF 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THAT  THE  RELIGION  OF  REAL.    CHRISTIANS,  AND  REAL    JEWS, 
IS  ONE  AND  THE  SAME. 

.      The  Jewish  religion  seemed  to  consist  essentially  in 
J  descent  from  Abraham,  in  circumcision,  in  sacrifices, 
'and  ceremonies,  in  the  ark,  and  the  temple  at  Jerusa- 
lem, and  in  the  law,  and  the  covenant  of  Moses. 
I       I  affirm  that  it  did  not  consist  in  all,  or  any  of  these 

i things,  but  simply  in  the  love  of  God ;  and   that  God 
disallowed  all  the  rest. 
That  God  did  not  choose  the    people    who  sprung 
from  Abraham  according  to  the  llesh. 

That  the  Jews  were  to  be  punished  by  the  Almighty, 
as  strangers  would  be,  if  they  offended.  If  thou  forget 
the  Lord  thy  God^  and  walk  after  other  gods^  and  serve 
them^  and  worship  them ;  I  testify  against  you  this  day^ 
that  ye  shall  surely  perish  ;  as  the  nations  which  the  Lord 
destroyeth  before  your  face  ^  so  shall  ye  perish. 

That  strangers  would  be  accepted,  even  as  the 
Jews,  if  they  loved  God. 

That  the  Jews  ascribed  their  safety  to  God,  and 
not  to  Abraham.  Doubtless  thou  art  our  father.,  though 
Abraham  be  ignorant  of  us.,  and  Israel  acknowledge  us 
not :  thou.,  0  Lord.,  art  our  Father.,  our  Redeemer.  Isaiah, 
Ixiii.  16. 

Moses  also  had  said,  God  accepteih  not  persons.,  nor 
taketh  rewards. 

I  affirm  that  the  Jewish  religion  enjoins  also  the 
circumcision  of  the  heart.  Circumcise.,  therefore.,  the 
foreskin  of  your  hearty  and  be  no  more  stiff-necked.  For 
the  Lord  your  God  is  God  of  gods.,  and  Lord  of  lords.,  a 
great  God.,  a  mighty.,  a  terrible.,  t^'C.  Deut.  x.  16,  17. 

That  God  promised  to  do  this  for  them  at  some  lu- 
ture  day.  And  the  Lord  thy  God  will  circumcise  thy 
heart.,  and  the  heart  of  thy  seed.,  to  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart.     33eut.  xxx.  6. 


cnaiSTIANiTY  AND  JUDAISM.  181 

Th;it  the  uncirciimcised  in  heart  shall  be  judged  and 
punished.  God  7vill  punish  them  zvhich  are  circumcised 
with  the  uncircumcised ;  for  all  these  nations  are  uucir- 
cuincised^  and  all  the  house  of  Israel  are  uncircumcised  in 
heart. 

1.  I  affirm  tha*  circumcision  was  a  sign,  instituted 
to  distinguish  the  Jewish  people  from  all  other  na- 
tions. And  therefore  it  was  that,  while  they  wandered 
in  the  wilderness,  they  were  not  circumcised,  because 
they  could  then  not  intermingle  with  strangers  ;  and 
that  since  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  no  longer 
necessarj'. 

The  love  of  God  is  every  where  enjoined.  I  call 
heaven  and  earth  to  record  this  day  against  you^  that  I 
have  set  before  you  life  and  death.,  blessing  and  cursing  ; 
therefore  choose  life.,  that  both  thou  and  thy  seed  may 
live  ;  that  thou  mayest  love  the  Lord  thy.  God^  and  that 
thou  mayest  obey  his  voice^  and  that  thou  rnayest  cleave 
unto  him,  for  he  is  thy  life.     Deut.  xxx.  19,  20. 

It  is  said  also,  that  the  Jews,  from  the  want  of  this 
love,  shall  be  rejected  for  their  crimes,  and  the  Gen- 
tiles chosen  in  their  stead.  I  rvill  hide  my  face  Jrom 
them,  for  they  are  avery  f reward  nation,  and  unbelieving. 
They  have  moved  me  to  jealousy  zcith  that  which  is  not 
God, — and  I  will  tnove  them  to  jealousy  with  those  which 
are  not  a  people.  I  will  provoke  them  to  anger  with  a 
foolish  nation.     Deut.  xxxii.  20,21. 

That  temporal  blessings  are  fallacious,  but  that  the 
true  good  is  to  be  united  with  God.  That  their  feasts 
were  displeasing  to  God.  That  the  sacritices  of  the 
Jews  displeased  God ;  and  not  only  those  of  the  wickied 
Jews,  bet  he  had  no  pleasure  in  the  sacrifices  of  the 
righteous,  for,  in  Psalm  50th,  previously  to  his  special 
address  to  the  wicked,  beginning,  But  to  the  wicked 
God  saith,  ^-c.  verse  16th,  it  is  stated  that  God  will  not 
accept  the  sacrifices  of  beasts,  nor  their  blood.  1  Sam. 
XV.  22. 

That  the  offerings  of  the  Gentiles  shall  be  accepted 
of  God,  Mai.  i.  11.     Anl  that  the  offerings  of  ttie  Jews 
werenot  acceptable  to  him,  Jer.  vi.  20. 
15 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST. 


That  God  would  make  a  new  covenant  by  Messiah, 
and  that  the  old  one  should  be  abolished,  Jer.  xxxi.  31. 

That  ihe  former  things  shall  be  forgotten,  Isa.  xliii. 
18. 

That  the  ark  shall  be  no  more  remembered,  Jer. 
iii.  16. 

That  the  temple  shall  be  rejected,  Jer.  vii.  12 — 14. 

That  the  sacrifices  fhonld  be  done  away,  and  a  purer 
sacrifice  established,  Mai.  i.  10,  11. 

That  the  order  of  the  Aaronic  priesthood  should  be 
rejected,  and  that  of  Melchisedec  introduced  by  the 
Messiah,  and  that  this  should  be  an  everlasting  priest- 
hood. 

That  Jerusalem  shall  be  rejected,  Isaiah  v.  That  a. 
new  name  shall  be  given.  That  it  shall  be  a  better 
and  an  eternal  name,  Isaiah  Ivi.  5. 

That  the  Jews  shall  continue  without  prophet, 
priest,  king,  prince,  sacrifice  or  altar;  and  that  they 
should  subsist,  notwithstanding,  as  a  distinct  people. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


WE  CANNOT  KNOW  GOD  SAVINGLY,  BUT  BY  JESUS  CHRIST. 


It  is  usual  tor  the  greater  part  of  those  who  try  to 
convince  the  ungodly  of  the  beins:  of  a  God,  to  begin 
with  the  works  of  nature  ;  and  they  seldom  succeed,  ft 
Not  that  I  question  the  substantiality  of  that  class  of 
proofs,  for  ihey  are  consecrated  by  the  Scripture  ; land 
they  consist  with  sound  reason ;  but  frequently  they 
are  not  well  ndapted  to  ihe  disposition  of  mind,  of  those 
to  whom  they  are  so  applied. 

For  it  should  he  observed,  that  this  line  of  argument 
is  not  applied  to  those  who  have  a  living  faith  in  the 
heari,  and  wlio  see  clearly  that  every  thing  which 
exists,  '.-  the  work  of  God  whom  they  adore.  To 
such,  all  nature  speaks  for  its  author.  To  them  the 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God.      But  for  those  in 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  183 

whom  this  light  is  extinct,  and  in  whom  wc  wish  it  to 
revive  ;  those  men  who  are  without  faitii  and  charity, 
and  who  find  nothing-  but  clouds  and  darkness  through- 
out nature  ;  for  such  it  seems  scarcely  the  right  way 
to  reclaim  them,  that  we  should  plj'  them  on  a  subject 
so  great  and  important,  with  proofs  drawn  from  the 
course  of  the  moon  and  the  planets,  or  with  any  of 
those  common-place  arguments,  against  which  they 
have  invariably  revolted.  The  hardness  of  their 
hearts  has  rendered  them  deaf  to  this  voice  of  nature, 
ringing  constantly  upon  their  ear;  and  experience 
proves,  that  far  from  carrying  them  by  these  means, 
nothing  is  more  likely  to  disgust  them,  and  to  destroy 
the  hope  of  their  discovering  the  truth,  than  professing 
to  convince  them  simply  by  such  reasonings,  and  tell- 
ing them  that  they  will  tind  truth  altogether  unveiled 

Certainly  this  is  not  the  way  in  which  the  Scrip- 
tures speak  of  God,  which  are  far  better  prepared  to 
speak  of  him  than  we  are.  They  tell  us,  we  allow, 
that  the  beauty  of  creation  declares  its  author ;  but, 
they  do  not  say  that  it  does  so  to  the  whole  world. 
On  the  contrary,  they  affirm,  that  the  creature  does 
not  make  God  known  by  its  own  light,  but  by  that 
light  which  God,  at  the  same  time,  pours  into  the 
minds  of  those  whom  he  thus  instructs.  That  'which 
may  he  knozvii  of  God^  is  manifest  in  them  ;  for  God 
hath  shewed  it  to  them^  Rom.  i.  19.  The  Scripture 
teaches  us  in  general,  that  God  is  a  God^  that  hideth 
himself;  and,  that  since  the  corruption  of  human  na- 
ture, he  has  left  men  in  a  state  of  blindness,  from 
which  they  cannot  escape,  but  through  Jesus  Christ, 
without  whom  all  communion  with  God  is  impractica- 
ble. JVo  man  knoweth  the  Father^  but  the  Son,  and  he 
to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal  him,  Matt.  ii.  21. 

The  Scripture  teaches  the  same  truth  also,  where, 
in  so  many  different  passages,  it  affirms,  that  they  who 
seek  God  shall  find  him.  But  we  do  not  speak  thus  of 
a  clear  and  self-evident  light.  It  needs  no  seeking.  It 
compels  observation  by  its  own  brilliancy. 

2.  Metaphysical  arguments,  in  proof  of  Deity,  are 


184  SALVATION  THROUGH    CHRIST. 

SO  remote  from  the  common  habits  of  reasoning,  and 
so  intricate  and  involved,  that  they  produce  little  im- 
pression ;  and  even  though  they  may  influence  a  few,it 
is  only  at  the  time  when  they  are  actually  considering' 
the  demonstration,  and  an  hour  afterwards,  they  fear 
thej^  have  deceived  themselves.  Quod  curiositate  cog- 
noverant  superbia  amiserunt. 

Besides,  this  sort  of  proof  can  only  lead  to  a  specu- 
lative knowledge  of  God  ;  and  to  know  him  only  in 
this  way,  is  not  to  know  him  at  all. 

The  God  whom  Christians  worship,  is  not  merely 
the  divine  author  of  geometric  truths,  and  of  the  or- 
der of  the  elements.  This  is  the  belief  of  the  heathen. 
He  is  not  merely  a  God  who  watches  providentially 
over  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  men,  to  bestow  a  succes- 
sion of  happy  years  on  his  worshippers.  This  is  the 
belief  of  the  Jew.  But  the  God  of  Abraham  and  af 
Jacob,  the  God  of  the  Christian,  is  a  God  of  love  and 
of  consolation.  He  is  a  God  who  tills  the  soul  and  the 
heart  which  he  possesses.  He  is  a  God  who  makes 
them  feel  within,  their  own  misery;  whose  infinite 
grace  unites  itself  with  their  inmost  soul ;  tills  it  with 
humilit}^,  aiid  joy,  and  confidence,  and  love  ;  and  makes 
it  impossible  for  them  to  seek  any  other  end  than  him- 
self 

The  God  of  the  Christians  is  a  God  who  causes  the 
soul  to  feel  that  he  is  its  only  good,  that  he  is  its  only 
rest ;  and  that  it  can  have  no  joy  but  in  his  love  ;  and 
who  teaches  it,  at  the  same  time,  to  abhor  every  ob- 
stacle to  the  full  ardor  of  that  affection.  The  self- 
love  and  sensual  affection  which  impede  it,  are  insuffer- 
able to  it.  God  discloses  to  the  soul  this  abyss  of  self- 
ishness, and  that  he  himself  is  the  only  remedy. 

That  is  to  know  God  as  a  Christian.  But  to  know 
God  thus,  a  man  must  know  also  his  misery  and  un- 
worthiness,  and  the  need  he  has  of  a  mediator,  by 
whom  he  may  draw  near  to  God,  and  be  again  united 
to  him.  These  two  branches  of  knowledge  must  not 
be  separated,  for  when  separated,  they  are  not  only 
useless,  but  injurious.     The    knowledge    of  onr   ruin. 


SALVATION  THROUGH  CHRIST.  185 

without  the  knowledi^e  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  despair. — 
But  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ  delivers  us  both 
i'rom  pride  and  despair,  because  in  him  we  discern,  at 
once,  our  God,  our  own  guilt,  and  the  only  way  of  re- 
covery. 

We  may  know  God  without  knowing  our  wretched- 
ness, or  our  wretchedness  without  knowing  God  ;  or 
both,  without  knowing  the  way  of  deliverance  from 
those  miseries  by  which  we  are  overwhelmed.  But 
we  cannot  know  Jesus  Christ,  without  knowing,  at 
once  our  God,  our  ruin,  and  our  remed}^,  because  Jesus 
Christ  is  not  merely  God  ;  but  God  our  Saviour  from 
misery. 

Hence,  therefore,  they  who  seek  God  without  the 
Saviour,  will  discover  no  satisfactory  or  truly  bene- 
ficial light.  For  either  they  never  discover  that  there 
is  a  God;  or,  if  they  do,  it  is  ti  little  purpose  ;  because 
they  devise  to  themselves  some  way  of  approaching 
without  mediation,  that  God,  whom  without  the  aid  of 
a  mediator,  tliey  have  discovered  :  and  thus  they  fall 
either  into  Atheism  or  Deism,  two  evils  equally  abhor- 
rent to  the  Christian  system. 

We  should  aim  then,  exclusively,  to  know  Jesus 
Christ,  since  by  him  only,  we  can  expect  ever  to  ob- 
tain a  beneficial  knowledge  of  God. 

He  is  the  true  God  of  mankind  :  that  is,  of  miserable 
sinners.  He  is  the  centre  of  all,  and  to  him  every 
thing  points:  and  he  who  knows  him  not,  knows  noth- 
ing of  the  economy  of  this  world,  or  of  himself.  For 
not  only  can  we  not  know  God,  but  hj  Jesus  Christ, 
but  we  cannot  know  ourselves  except  by  him. 

Without  Jesus  Christ,  man  must  remain  in  sia  and 
misery.  In  Jesus  Christ,  man  is  delivered  from  sin  and 
misery.  In  him  is  treasured  up  all  our  happiness,  our 
virtue,  or  very  life,  and  light,  and  hope ;  and  out 
of  him  there  is  nothing  for  us  but  sin,  misery, 
darkness,  and  despair;  without  him,  we  see  nothing 
but  obscurity  and  confusion  in  the  nature  of  both  God 
and  man. 

16* 


86  THOUGHTS  ON  MIRACLE?, 


CHAPTER  XX. 


fe", 


THOUGHTS  ON  MIRACLES. 

We  mr.:^t  judge  of  doctrine_bxJQ]ij[;ilcles,  an4_g/_rQii!a=, 
clfisJi^Ldocr^^uTe!      The  doctrine  attests  the  miracle^, 
and  tbemiracles  _aiieil-li}c  doctrine.     Both  sides  of  the 
as'sertion  are  true,  and  yet  there  is  no   discrepancy  be- 
tween them. 

2.  There  are  miracles  which  are  indubitable  evi- 
dences of  truth,  and  there  are  some  which  are  not.  We 
should  have  a  mark  to  distinguish  those  which  are,  or 
they  would  be  useless.  But  they  are  not  useless;  they 
are  of  the  nature  of  a  foundation.  The  test  then  which 
is  given  to  us,  should  be  such  as  not  to  destroy  that 
proof  which  true  miracles  give  to  the  truth,  and 
which  is  the  chief  end  of  miracles. 

If  no  miracles  had  ever  been  adduced  in  support  of 
falsehood,  they  would  have  been  a  certain  criterion. 
If  there  were  no  rule  for  discrimination,  miracles 
would  have  been  useless  ;  there  would  have  been  no 
just  grounds  to  credit  them. 

Moses  has  given  us  one  test,  which  is,  when  the 
miracle  leads  to  idolatry.  If  there  arise  among  you  a 
prophet^  or  a  dreamer  of  dreams^  and  giveth  thee  a  sign 
or  a  wonder^  and  the  sign  or  the  wonder  come  to  pass^ 
whereof  he  sjjake  to  thee,  saying,  Let  us  go  after  other 
gods,  xvhich  thou  hast  not  known,  and  let  us  serve  them  ; 
thou  shalt  not  hearken  unto  the  words  of  that  prophet,  or 
that  dreamer  of  dreams  :  for  the  Lord  your  God proveth 
you.  Deut.  xiii.  1,2,3.  .Tesns  Christ  Jj_lso  has  given 
us  one  in  Mark  ix.  39,  TTiere  is_no  man  who  shall  do  a 
'^ ^Ifmira-cie  inl7Pi)»inii)iUy  lliat  can  liohtlii_sfifnk  pvil  f>f~mfi. 
^  WRence  it  follows,  that  whoever  declares  himself  open- 
ly against  Jesus  Christ,  cannot  do  a  miracle  in  his 
name.  So  that,  if  he  works  miracles,  it  is  not  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  should  not  be  listened  to. 
We  see  then  the  limits  marked  out  to  our  faith  in  mir- 


THOUGHTS  OiV  MIRACLES.  187 

acles,  to  which  we  must  add  no  others.  In  the  Old 
Testament,  when  they  turn-  men  away  from  God.  In 
the  New,  when  they  turn  men  from  Jesus  Christ. 

So  that  if  we  see  a  miracle,  we  must  at  once  receive 
it,  or  discover  some  plain  reason  to  the  contrary.^  We 
must  examine  if  he  who  does  it,  denies  God  or  Jesus 
Christ. 

3.  Every  religion  is  false,  which  does  not  in  its  be- 
lief worship  one  God  as  the  author  of  all  things;  and 
in  its  morals,  love  one  God  as  the  end  of  all  things. 
Every  religion  now  which  does  not  recognize  JesuS 
Christ,  is  notoriously  false,  and  miracles  can  avail  it 
nothing. 

The  Jews  had  a  doctrine  from  God,  as  we  have  from 
Jesus  Christ,  and  confirmed  similarly  by  miracles. 
They  were  tbrbidden  to  believe  in  any  worker  of  mir- 
acles, who  should  teach  a  contrary  doctrine;  and, 
moreover,  they  were  required  to  have  recourse  to 
their  priests,  and  to  adhere  to  them  strictly.  So  that, 
apparently,  all  the  reasons  which  we  have  for  reject- 
ing workers  of  miracles,  they  had  with  respect  to  Je- 
sus Christ  and  his  apostles. 

Yet,  it  is  certain,  that  they  were  very  highly  blama- 
ble  for  refusing  to  believe  them  on  the  testimony  of 
their  miracles  ;  for  Jesus  Christ  said.  That  they  would 
not  have  been  blamable,  if  they  had  not  seen  his  mira- 
cles.     John  XV.  22 — 24. 

It  follows,  then,  that  he  regarded  his  miracles  as  an 
infallible  proof  of  his  doctrine,  and  that  the  Jews  were 
bound  by  them  to  believe  him.  And,  in  fact,  it  was 
these  miracles  especially  which  made  their  unbelief 
criminal.  For  the  proofs  that  they  might  have  adduc- 
ed from  Sci-ipture,  during  the  life  of  Christ,  were  not 
alone  conclusive.  They  might  see  there  that  Moses 
had  said.  Another  prophet  should  come ;  but  that 
would  not  have  proved  Jesus  Christ  to  be  that  proph- 
et, which  was  the  whole  matter  in  question.  Such 
passages  of  Scripture,  would  have  shewn  them  that 
Jesus  Christ  might  be  that  prophet;  and  this,  taken 
together  with  his  miracles,  should  have  determined 
their  belief  that  he  really  was  so. 


188  THOUGHTS  OX  MIRACLES. 

4.  Prophecy  alone  was  not  a  sufficient  testimony  to 
Jesus  Christ,  during  his  life;  and  hence  the  Jews 
could  not  have  been  criminal  in  not  beJieving  him  be- 
fore his  death,  if  his  miracles  had  not  decided  the 
point.  Miracles,  then,  are  sufficient  when  we  detect 
TLQ  contrariety  in  dortrinp^  -Anri  fhpy^onld  l->e. received^ 
^^'~^''''"  '^istliaxrprovedTiTraself  to  be  the  Messiah, 
by  confirming  his  doctrine  more  by  his  own  miracles, 
than  by  an  appeal  to  the  Scriptures  and  the  prophets. 

It  was  by  his  miracles  that  JNTicodemus  knew  his 
loctrine  to  be  from  God.  We  knozv  that  thou  art  a 
■  teacher  come  from  God ;  for  no  man  can  do  the  things 
that  thou  doest.  except  God  be  with  him.  John  iii.  2.  He 
did  not  judge  of  the  miracles  by  the  doctrine,  but  of 
doctrine  by  the  miracles. 

So  that  even  though  the  doctrine  was  suspected,  as 
that  of  Jesus  Christ  might  be  by  Nicodemus,  because 
it  seemed  to  threaten  with  destruction  the  traditions 
of  the  Pharisees,  yet  if  there  were  clear  and  evident 
miracles  on  its  side,  the  evidence  for  the  miracle 
ought  to  carry  it  against  any  apparent  difficulty  in  re 
spect  to  the  doctrine.  This  rule  has  its  foundation  in 
the  indubitable  principle,  that  God  cannot  lead  into 
error. 

There  is  something  reciprocally  due  between  God 
and  man.  God  says  in  Isaiah  i.  18.  Come  now  and  let 
us  reason  together.  And  in  another  place.  What  could  I 
have  done  to  my  vineyard^  that  I  have  not  done  to  it  P  v.  4. 

Blen  owe  it  to  God,  to  receive  the  religion  which 
he  sends  ;  God  owes  it  to  men  not  to  lead  them  into 
error.  Now,  they  would  be  led  into  error,  if  any 
workers  of  miracles  set  forth  a  false  doctrine,  which 
did  not  manifestly  appear  false  to  the  apprehensions  of 
common  sense ,  and  if  a  greater  worker  of  miracles 
set  forth  a  false  doctrine,  which  did  not  manitestly  ap- 
pear false  to  the  apprehensions  of  common  sense,  and 
if  a  greater  worker  of  miracles  had  not  already  en- 
joined upon  them  not  to  believe  it.  So  that,  if  the 
church  were  divided,  and  the  Arians,  for  instance,  who 
affirm  that  they  are    founded  upon    the    Scripture, 


THOUGHTS  ON  xMIRACLE?.  189 

equally  with  the  orthodox,  had  wrought  miracles,  and 
the  orthodox  had  not,   men  would  be  led  into  error. 

For,  as  a  man  who  professes  to  make  known  the  se- 
cret things  of  God,  is  not  worthy  of  credit  on  his  own 
private  authority,  so  a  man,  who,  in  proof  of  the 
communication  that  he  has  from  God,  raises  the  dead, 
predicts  future  events,  removes  mountains,  and  heals 
diseases,  is  worthy  of  credit;  and  we  are  impious  to 
refuse  it,  so  long  as  he  is  not  contradicted  by  some 
other  teacher  who  works  still  greater  wonders. 

But  is  not  God  said  to  prove  us?  And  may  he  not 
prove  us  by  miracles  which  seem  to  uphold  error  ? 

There  is  a  great  difference  between  proving  us,  arid 
leading  us  into  error.  God  proves  us;  but  he  never 
leads  into  error.  To  prove,  is  to  present  the  occasion 
which  does  not  impose  a  necessity  to  act.  To  lead 
into  error,  is  to  place  man  under  the  necessity  of  as- 
suming and  approving  a  falsehood.  This  God  cannot 
do  ;  yet  he  would  do  this,  if  in  an  obscure  question, 
he  permitted  miracles  to  be  wrought  on  the  side  of 
falsehood. 

We  are  warranted  then  to  conchade,  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  a  man  who  conceals  his  false  doctrine, 
with  a  view  to  make  it  appear  like  truth,  and  who  ail 
firms  himself  to  be  conformed  to  the  will  of  God  and 
the  rule  of  his  church,  to  work  miracles,  in  order 
gradually  and  insensibly  to  insinuate  a  false  and  subtle 
error.  This  cannolbe_;  still  less  can  it  be,  that  God, 
who  knoweth  the  heart,  should  work  fhiracles_in_Jas^ 
yor  of  such  a  deceiver._ 

5.  There  is  a  great  difference  between  not  being 
for  Jesus  Christ,  and  avowing  the  infidelity ;  and  not 
being  for  Jesus  Christ,  but  pretending  to  be  so.  In 
the  ftrst  case,  perhaps  miracles  might  be  permitted, 
but  not  in  the  other ;  for  it  is  quite  clear  of  the  one 
class,  that  they  are  opposed  to  the  truth,  but  it  is  not 
so  of  the  other  ;  and  thus,  such  miracles  may  be  right- 
ly estimated. 

Miracles,  then,  have  been  the  test  in  doubtful  points, 
between  the  Jew  and  the  heathen,  the  Jew  and  the 
Christian. 


190  THOUGHTS  ON  MIRACLES. 

We  have  seen  this  in  all  the  combats  of  truth 
against  error.  In  those  of  Abel  against  Cain ;  of  Mo- 
ses against  the  magicians  of  Egypt;  of  Elijah  against 
the  prophets  of  Baal ;  of  Jesus  Christ  against  the 
Pharisees;  of  St.  Paul  against  Elymas ;  of  the  Apos- 
tles against  the  Exorcists ;  and  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians against  infidels.  The  truth  always  surpassed  in 
a  contest  of  miracles  ;  and  never  in  a  contest  for  the 
true  God,  and  for  the  truth  of  religion,  has  a  miracle 
been  wrought  in  support  of  error,  but  a  greater  mira- 
cle has  been  wrought  in  support  of  truth. 

By  this  rule  it  is  clear,  that  the  Jews  were  under 
obligation  to  believe  in  Christ.  He  was  suspected  by 
them,  but  his  miracles  were  infinitely  more  strong  than 
the  suspicions  against  him.  They  ought  there  (ore  to 
have  believed  him. 

In  the  days  of  Jesus  Christ,  some  believed  in  him, 
but  others  would  not,  because  the  prophecies  said, 
that  Messiah  should  be  born  in  Bethlehem;  instead  of 
which,  they  conceived  that  Jesus  Christ  was  born  in 
Nazareth.  But  they  should  have  examined  more  nar- 
rowly, whether  he  might  not  yet  have  been  born  in 
Bethlehem;  for  his  miracles  being  such,  as  to  carry 
conviction,  the  alleged  contradictions  of  his  doctrine 
to  Scripture,  and  this  obscurity,  did  not  operate  to  ex- 
cuse, but  merely  to  blind  ihem. 

Jesus  Christ  healed  him  that  was  born  blind,  and 
did  many  other  miracles  on  the  Sabbath-day,  by  means 
of  which  the  'Pharisees  were  blinded,  who  atfirmed 
that  it  was  right  to  try  the  miracles  by  the  doctrine. 

The  same  rule  which  renders  imperative  the  belief 
in  Christ,  equally  forbids  the  belief  of  antichrist. 

Jesus  Christ  did  not  speak  either  against  God,  or 
against  Moses.  The  antichrist*  and  the  fiilse  proph- 
ets foretold  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  will 
speak  openly  against  God,  and  against  Jesus  Christ. 
But  to  a  concealed  enemy,  God  will  not  give  the  pow- 
er of  openly  working  miracles. 


*  [Whom  did  Pascal  consider  the  antichrist?]  A.  E. 


THOUGHTS  ON  MIRACLES.  191 

Moses  foretold  Jesus  Christ,  and  comniRnded  to  fol- 
low liim.  Jesus  Christ  foretold  the  antichrist,  and 
fcrehad  to  follow  him. 

The  miracles  of  Jesus  Christ  were  not  predicted  by 
antichrist,  but  the  miracles  of  antichrist  were  predict- 
ed by  Jesus  Christ.  And  thus,  if  Jesus  Christ  were 
not  the  Messiah,  he  would  have  led  into  error;  but 
we  could  not  be  reasonably  led  into  error  by  the  mir- 
acles of  antichrist.  Therefore  the  miracles  of  anti- 
christ, do  not  affect  the  miracles  of  Jesus  Christ.  In 
fact,  when  Jesus  Christ  predicted  the  miracles  of  an- 
tichrist, did  he  think  to  injure  the  faith  of  his  own  ? 

There  is  no  reason  to  believe  in  antichrist,  that 
there  is  not  for  believing-  in  Christ ;  but  there  are 
reasons  for  believing-  in  Christ,  which  there  are  not 
for  believing  in  antichrist. 

6.  Miracles  assisted  in  the  foundation,  and  will  as- 
sist to  the  preservation  of  the  church,  to  the  days  of 
antichrist,  and  even  to  the  end. 

^Yherefore,.God,  to  preserve  this  testimony  in  his 
church,  has  either  confounded  all  false  miracles,  or 
foretold  them  in  his  word  ;  and,  in  both  ways,  h-is  el- 
evated his  cause,  and  us  who  believe  in  it,  above  those 
false  wonders  which  appear  to  us  supernatural. 

It  will  be  the  same  in  future  time.  Either  God  will 
not  permit,  or  he  will  confound  false  miracles,  or  he 
will  work  greater ;  for  miracles  have  such  weight, 
that  however  evident  the  truth  of  God  may  be,  yet  it 
is  necessary  that  he  should  warn  us  against  them, 
when  they  are  wrought  against  him  ;  without  this, 
they  might  disturb  us. 

And  thus,  howev^er  much  the  passage  in  the  15th  of 
Deuteronomy,  which  forbids  to  believe,  and  to  hear 
those  who  work  miracles,  and  who  thereby  seduce 
from  the  service  of  God;  and  t  at  in  St.  Mark  xiii.  22. 
which  says.  There  shall  rise  up  false  Christs  and  false 
prophets^  who  shall  do  many  signs  and  wonders^  and  se- 
duce^ if  it  were  possible^  the  very  elect^  and  some  similar 
ones,  may  appear  to  make  against  the  authority  of 
miracles ;  nothing  more  directly  proves  their  force. 


192  THOUGHTS  ON  MIRACLES. 

The  true  reason  why  real  miracles  are  not  believ- 
ed, is  the  want  of  love  to  God. .  Ye  believe  not,  said 
Christ,  because  ye  are  not  of  my  sheep.  The  same  rea- 
son holds,  why  men  believe  false  miracles.  Because 
they  received  not  the  love  of  the  truth  that  they  might  be 
saved,  God  shall  send  them  strong  delusion,  that  they  shall 
believe  a  lie.  2  Thess.  ii.  10. 

When. I  have  considered  how  it  is  that  men  reposp 
such  faith  in  impostors,  who  profess  to  have  certain 
remedies  for  disease,  as  to  put  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  it  has  appeared  to  me,  that  th€  true  reason  is, 
that  there  are  some  ?'ea/ remedies ;  for  it  could  not  be 
that  there  should  be  so  many  fallacious  ones,  and  that 
they  should  obtain  so  much  credit,  if  there  were  none 
that  were  true.  Had  there  never  been  a  real  remedy, 
and  all  our  diseases  had  been  incurable,  it  is  impossi- 
ble that  any  men  could  have  supposed  themselves 
able  to  cure  ;  or  that  so  many  others  should  have  re- 
posed confidence  in  their  boasted  powers.  As,  for  in- 
stance, if  any  man  professed  to  be  able  to  prevent  us 
from  ever  dying,  no  one  would  believe  this,  because 
there  is  not  a  single  instance  of  success.  But  since 
many  effectual  remedies  have  been  attested  by  the 
wisest  of  men,  the  disposition  to  believe  has  been  thus 
created  ;  because,  as  the  fact  cannot  generally  be  de- 
nied, that  there  are  successful  cures  which  are  un- 
doubted, the  people  who  are  unable  to  discriminate 
between  the  false  and  the  true,  believe  all.  In  the 
«ame  way,  the  belief  of  so  many  imaginary  influences 
of  the  moon,  originates  in  the  fact,  that  some  do  exist, 
as  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  waters  of  the  ocean. 

In  the  same  way,  it  appears  to  me  that  there  could 
never  have  been  so  many  false  miracles,  false  revela- 
tions and  predictions,  if  there  had  not  been  some  that 
were  true  ;  nor  so  many  talse  religions,  if  there  had 
not  been  a  true  one.  For  had  there  been  nothing  of 
the  kind,  it  is  almost  impossible  that  men  could  have 
invented  these  things,  and  still  more  so,  that  others 
should  have  believed  them.  But  since  there  have 
been  some  very  remarkable  things  which   were   true, 


MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS.  193 

and  that  they  have  been  believed  by  the  greatest 
among  men,  such  an  eflect  has  been  produced,  that 
almost  all  the  world  has  acquired  a  tendency  to  be- 
lieve those  that  are  untrue.  And  thus,  instead  of  con- 
cluding that  because  there  are  many  false  miracles, 
there  are  none  true,  we  must,  on  the  contrary  con- 
clude, that  there  are  some  true  miracles  because  there 
are  so  many  false  ;  and  that  there  are  false  Ones,  only 
from  this  cause,  that  there  are  some  true  :  and  that, 
in  the  same  way,  there  are  false  religions,  only  be- 
cause one  religion  is  true.  The  real  cause  of  this  is, 
the  human  mind,  being  prejudiced  towards  that  side 
of  the  question,  by  some  things  that  are  true,  acquires 
a  predisposition  to  receive  even  what  is  counterfeit. 


CHAPTER   XXL 

MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS    ON  RELIGIOIS'. 

Pyrrhonism  has  been  useful  to  religion,  for  after  all, 
men,  before  the  coming  of  Christ,  did  not  know  Avhere 
they  were,  nor  whether  they  were  great  or  insignifi- 
cant. And  those  who  affirmed  the  one  or  the  other, 
knew  nothing  really,  and  conjectured  without  reason, 
and  at  a  venture.  And  whichever  they  denied,  they 
were  still  compelled  to  admit  the  principle  of  faith. 

2.  Who  would  blame  Christians, for  their  inability 
to  give  a  reason  for  their  belief,  when  they  profess  to 
hold  a  religion,  that  they  cannot  altogether  explain. 
On  the  contrary,  they  declare  when  they  propose  it 
to  the  Gentiles,  that  it  is  foolishness;  and  should  you 
then  complain  that  they  do  not  go  into  the  proof  of  it? 
If  they  prove  it,  they  contradict  their  own  words.  It 
is  in  the  failure  of  proof,  that  they  maintain  their  con- 
sistency. Yes,  but  while  that  excuses  those  who  pre- 
sent the  Christian  religion  as  such,  and  cancels  the 
blame'of  producing  it  without  a  full  and  rational  ex- 
16 


194  MISCELLANEOUS    THOUGHTS 

planation ;  it  does  not  excuse  those,  who,    upon   the 
offer  of  it  made  to  them,  refuse  to  believe. 

3.  Do  you  conceive  it  impossible  that  God  is  infi- 
nite, and  without  parts  ?  Yes.  I  will  shew  you  then 
a  thing  which  is  infinite  and  indivisible.  It  is  a  point 
moving  every  where  with  infinite  velocity.  Let  this 
effect  of  nature,  which,  at  first,  seemed  impossible  to 
you,  teach  you  that  there  may  be  others  which  you 
do  not  know.  Do  not  infer  from  these  your  days  of 
apprenticeship,  the  conclusion  that   there    is    nothing 

-  more  to  be  known,  but   rather  that  there  is,  infinitely 
more. 
j^  4.  The  waj  of  God,  who  does  all  things  well,  is  to 

/plant  religion  in  the  understanding  by  reasoning,    and 

\in  the  heart  by  his  grace.  J  But  to  seek  to  introduce 
it,  either  to  the  head  or  the  heart,  by  violence,  and  by 
threatening,  is  not  to  infuse  religion,  but  terror.  Be- 
gin by  pitying  the  incredulous.  They  are  sufficiently 
unfortunate.  We  should  not  rail  at  them,  but  when  it 
may  profit  them ;  but  it  injures  them. 
r  The  whole  of  our  faith  is  to  be  found  in  Jesus  Christ 

f  and  Adam.     The  whole  of  morals,  in  the  ideas  of  cor- 

1  ruption  and  grace. 

^  5.  The  heart  has  its  reasonings,  which  reason  does 
not  apprehend.  We  feel  this  in  a  thousand  instances. 
It  loves  universal  being  naturallj^,  and  self  naturally, 
just  as  it  takes  a  fancy  ;  and  it  hardens  itself  against 
either  as  it  will.  You  have  chosen  one,  and  renounc- 
ed the  other.     Was  this  a  matter  of  reason  with  you? 

6.  The  world  exists  for  the  exercise  of  m.ercy  and 
judgment  upon  men  ;  not  as.  beings  now  issuing  pure 
from  the  hands  of  God,  but  as  the  enemies  of  God,  to 
whom  he  gives,  as  a  matter  of  grace,  sufficient  light 
for  their  return,  if  they  will  seek  and  follow  it :  but 
sufficient  to  warrant  their  punishment  if  they  refuse. 

7.  After  all,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  the 
Christian  religion  has  something  very  wonderful  in  it. 
It  is,  says  one,  because  you  were  born  to  it.  Far 
from  it.  I  resist  it  for  that  very  reason  ;  lest  I  should 
be  biassed  by  a  prepossession.  But  though  I  were 
born  to  it,  I  believe  that  I  should  have  felt  the  same. 


ON  RELIGION.  195 

8.  There  are  two  ways  of  inculcating  the  truths  of 
our  religion,  one  by  the  force  of  reason,  the  other  by 
the  authority  of  Him  who  declares  them.  Blen  do  not 
use  the  latter,  but  the  former.  They  do  not  say.  We 
must  believe  this,  for  the  Scriptures  which  teach  it 
are  divine  ;  but  we  must  believe  for  this  and  the  other 
reason,  our  own  weak  arguments  ;  for  reason  itself  is 
easily  perverted. 

Those  who  appear  most  hostile  to  the  glory  of  re- 
ligion, are  not  altogether  useless  to  others.  We  would 
conclude,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  is  something 
supernatural  in  their  hostility,  for  a  blindness  so  great 
is  not  natural.  But  if  their  own  folly  makes  them 
such  enemies  to  their  own  welfare,  it  may  serve  as  a 
warning  to  others,  by  the  dread  of  an  example  so  mel- 
ancholy, and  a  folly  so  much  to  be  pitied. 

9.  Without  Jesus  Christ,  the  world  could  not  con- 
tinue to  exist.  It  must  either  be  destroyed,  or  be- 
come a  hell. 

Does  he  who  knows  human  nature,  know  it  only  to 
be  miserable  ?  And  will  he  only  who  knows  it,  be  the 
only  miserable  ? 

It  was  not  necessary  that  man  should  see  nothing  at 
all.  It  was  not  necessary  that  he  should  see  sufficient 
to  believe  that  he  had  hold  of  truth;  but  it  was  neces- 
sary that  he  should  see  sufficient  to  know  that  he  has 
lost  it.  To  ascertain  what  he  has  lost,  he  must  see 
and  not  see  ;  and  this  is  precisely  the  state  of  human 
nature. 

It  was  necessary  that  the  true  religion  should  teach 
us  both  our  greatness  and  our  misery,  and  lead  us 
both  to  the  esteem  and  contempt,  the  love  and  the  ha- 
tred, of  self. 

10.  Religion  is  a  matter  of  such  importance,  that 
it  is  quite  just,  that  they  who  will  not  be  at  the  pains 
to  seek  it,  if  it  is  obscure,  should  not  discover  it.  What 
can  they  complain  of,  if  it  is  such,  that  it  may  be 
found  for  seeking  ? 

Pride  counterbalances  and  cancels  all  our  miseries. 
How  monstrous  this  is,  and  how  manifestly  man   is  as- 


196  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

tray  !  He  is  fallen  from  his  high  estate,  and  he  seeks 
it  again  restlessl3^ 

After  we  had  become  corrupt,  it  was  right  that  we 
who  are  in  that  state  should  know  it ;  both  those  who 
delight  in  it,  and  those  who  do  not.  But  it  is  not  nec- 
essary that  all  should  see  the  way  of  redemption. 

When  you  say  that  Christ  did  not  die  for  all,  j^ou 
give  occasion  to  a  vice  of  the  human  heart,  which  con- 
stantly applies  to  itself  the  exception.  Thus  you  give 
to  despair,  instead  of  cherishing  hope, 

11.  The  wicked  who  abandon  themselves,  blindly 
to  their  lusts,  without  the  knowledge  of  God,  and 
without  troubling  themselves  to  seek  him,  verify  in 
themselves  this  fundamental  principle  of  the  faith  which 
they  oppose,  that  human  nature  is  corrupt.  And  the 
Jews  who  oppose  so  stubbornly  the  Christian  religion, 
confirm  also  this  other  fundamental  truth  of  the  relig- 
ion which  they  oppose, — that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  true 
Messiah,  and  that  he  is  come  to  redeem  men,  and  to 
deliver  them  from  corruption  and  misery, — as  much 
by  their  state  at  the  present  day,  which  is  found  pre- 
dicted in  their  prophetic  writings,  as  by  those  same 
prophecies  which  they  hold,  and  which  they  scrupu- 
lously preserve,  as  containing  the  marks  by  which 
they  are  to  recognize  Messiah.  And  thus,  the  proofs 
of  human  corruption,  and  of  the  redemption  of  Jesus 
Christ,  which  are  the  two  leading  truths  of  the  system, 
are  drawn  from  the  profane  who  boast  their  utter  in- 
difference to  this  religion,  and  from  the  Jews,  who  are 
its  avowed  and  irreconcileable  enemies. 

12.  The  dignity  of  man  in  his  state  of  innocence, 
consisted  in  the  dominion  of  the  creatures,  and  in  using 
them ;  but  now  it  consists  in  avoiding  and  subduing 
them. 

13.  Many  persons  go  so  much  the  more  dangerously 
astray,  because  they  assume  a  truth  as  the  foundation 
oftheir  error.  Their  fault  is  not  the  following  a 
falsehood  ;  but  the  following  of  one  truth,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  another. 

There   are  many  truths,  both  in  faith    and   morals, 


ON  RELIGION.  197 

which  seem  repugnant  and  contrary  to  each  other, 
and  which  are  yet  linked  together  in  a  most  beautiful 
order. 

The  source  of  all  heresies,  is  the  exclusion  of  some 
one  or  other  of  these  truths  ;  and  the  source  of  ail  the 
ofejections  which  heretics  bring  forward,  is  the  ignor- 
ance of  some  of  these  truths.  And  it  usually  happens, 
that  being  unable  to  conceive  the  relation  between  two 
apparently  opposing  truths,  and  believing  that  the 
adoption  of  one,  involves  the  rejection  of  the  other; 
they  do  actually  embrace  the  one,  and  renounce  the 
other. 

The  ISTestorians  maintained,  that  there  were  two 
persons  in  Jesus  Christ,  because  there  were  two  na- 
tures ;  and  the  Eutychians,  on  the  contrary,  that  there 
was  but  one  nature,  because  there  was  but  one  person. 
The  orthodox  unite  the  two  truths,  of  two  natures,  and 
one  person. 

(The  shortest  way  to  prevent  heresy,  is  to  teach  the 
whole  truth ;  and  the  surest  way  of  refuting  heresy,  is 
to  meet  it  by  an  unreserved  declaration  of  truth. 

Grace  will  be  ever  in  the  world,  and  nature  also. — 
There  will  always  be  Pelagians,  and  always  men  of 
the  Catholic  faith;  because  our  first  birth  makes  the 
one,  and  the  second  birth  the  other. 

It  will  be  one  of  the  severest  pangs  of  the  damned, 
to  find  that  they  are  condemned,  even  by  their  own 
reason,  by  which  they  pretended  to  condemn  the 
Christian  religion. 

14.  It  is  a  common  feature  of  the  lives  of  ordinary 
men,  and  of  saints,  that  they  are  all  seeking  happiness; 
they  differ  only  in  respect  to  the  point  where  they 
place  it.  Each  counts  him  an  enemy,  who  prevents 
his  attaining  the  desired  object. 

We  should  determine  what  is  good  or  evil  by  the 
will  of  God,  who  can  neither  be  unjust  nor  blind,  and 
not  by  our  own  will  which  is  always  full  of  wickedness 
and  error. 

15.  Jesus  Christ  has  given  in  the  gospel,  this  crite- 
rion of  those  who  have  laith,  that  they    speak    a   new 

16* 


198  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

language;  and,  in  fact,  the  renewing  of  the  thoughts 
and  wishes,  alters  the  conversation  also.  For  these  new 
things,  which  cannot  be  displeasing  to  God,  in  the  same 
w^ay  as  the  old  man  could  not  please  him,  differ  widely 
from  earthly  novelties.  The  things  of  the  world, 
how^ever  novel,  soon  grow  old  in  the  using  ;  while  this 
new  spiritual  nature  becomes  newer  and  fresher  as  it 
goes  forward.  Our  outward  man  perishes^  says  St  Paul, 
but  the  inner  man  is  renewed  day  by  day.  And  it  will 
never  be  completely  renewed,  but  in  eternity,  where 
they  sing  without  ceasing,  the  new  song  of  which  Da- 
vid speaks  in  his  Psalms;  (Psalm  xxxiii.  3.)  the  song 
w^hich  flows  spontaneously  from  the  pure  sprit  of  love. 

16.  When  St  Peter  and  the  apostles  (Acts  xv.)  delib- 
erated on  the  abolishing  of  circumcision,  where  the 
point  in  question  involved  an  apparent  contradiction 
of  the  law  of  God;  they  did  not  consult  the  prophets, 
but  held  hy  the  simple  fact  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  those 
who  were  uncircumcised.  They  judged  it  a  more 
certain  way  of  settling  the  question,  that  God  approved 
those  whom  he  had  filled  with  his  Spirit,  than  that  it 
did  not  become  them  to  observe  the  law.  They  knew 
that  the  end  of  the  law  was  but  the  gift  of  the  Spirit; 
and  that  since  the}'  had  received  it  without  circumcis- 
ion, the  ceremony  was  not  essentially  necessary. 

17.  Two  laws  are  belter  fitted  to  govern  the  whole 
Christian  republic,  than  all  political  codes  whatever. 
These  are,  The  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  our 
neighbour. 

Our  religion  is  adapted  to  minds  of  every  order. — - 
The  multitude  looks  only  at  its  present  state  and  estab- 
lishment ;  and  our  religion  is  such,  that  its  establish- 
ment is  a  sufficient  evidence  of  its  truth.  Others  trace 
it  up  to  the  apostles.  The  best  informed  follow  it  up 
to  the  creation  of  the  world.  The  angels  see  better 
and  farther  still;  they  trace  it  up  to  God  himself 

Those  to  whom  God  has  given  religion  as  the  feel- 
ing of  the  heart,  aie  happy  indeed,  and  thoroughly  sat- 
isfied of  its  truth.  But  for  those  who  have  not  this 
experience,  we  can  only  reason  with  them,   and    wait 


ON  RELIGION.  19^ 

till  God  himself  shall   stamp   this   impression    on    the 
heart,  without  which,  fiiith  cannot  be  saving*. 

God,  to  reserve  to  himself  the  sole  right  of  teaching 
us,  and  to  render  this  difficult  problem  of  our  being-, 
more  completely  incomprehensible  to  us,  has  concealed 
the  clue  to  it,  so  high,  or  rather  so  low,  that  we  can- 
not reach  it ;  .so  that  it  is  not  by  the  energies  of  reason, 
but  by  the  simple  submission  of  reason,  that  we  shall 
at  length  really  know  ourselves. 

18.  The  wicked,  who  profess  to  follow  the  dictates 
of  reason,  had  need  be  wonderfully  strong  in  their 
reasoning.  What  do  they  say  then  ?  Do  we  not  see, 
say  they,  that  brutes  live  and  die  like  men,  and  Turks 
like  Christians.  Have  not  the  Turks  their  ceremonies, 
prophets,  doctors,  saints,  and  religionists  as  we  have  I 
Well,  and  is  this  contrary  to  Scripture  :  Do  not  the 
Scriptures  affirm  all  this  ?  If  you  have  little  care  to 
know  the  truth,  you  know  enough  now  to  allow  you 
still  to  slumber.  But  you  wish  with  all  your  heart  to 
know  the  trutht.  It  is  not  enough.  You  must  examine 
it  minutely.  This  might  be  enough  for  some  mere 
question  of  a  vain  philosophy.  But  here,  where  every 
tiling  is  at  stake,  it  is  not.  And  yet,  mau}^  a  man,  after 
a  flimsy  reflection  like  this,  returns  to  trifles. 

It  is  dreadful  to  feel  every  thing  we  possess,  and 
every  thing  we  learn  to  value,  gliding  continually 
away,  without  a  serious  wish,  on  our  parts,  to  inquire, 
if  there  is  nothing  else  that  is  permanent. 

A  different  mode  of  life  in  this  world,  should  surely 
follow  these  different  suppositions,  either  that  we  may 
abide  here  for  ever,  or  that  it  being  sure  that  we  can- 
not be  here  long,  it  is  doubtful  whethor  we  shall  be 
here  another  hour.  This  last  supposition  Is  our  ac- 
tual case. 

19.  You  are  bound  by  your  circumstances  to  make 
your  best  exertions  for  the  discovery  of  the  truth.. 
For  if  you  die  without  the  worship  of  Him,  who  is 
the  true  principle  of  all  things,  you  are  lost.  But, 
you  say,  if  he  had  wished  me  to  worship  him,  he 


200  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

would  have  given  me  some  indications  of  his  will. 
And  so  he  has;  but  j^ou  neglect  them.  The  least  you 
can  do,  is  to  seek  them ;  and  it  will  repay  you. 

The  Atheists  ought  to  be  able  to  say  these  things 
with  absolute  certainty.  Now,  it  seems  to  me,  that 
a  man  must  be  insane,  who  could  affirm  it  as  absolutely 
certain,  that  the  human  soul  is  mortal.  I  can  quite  un- 
derstand a  man's  not  seeing  it  necessary  to  fathom  the 
Copernican  system  ;  but  the  knowledge,  whether  the 
soul  be  mortal  or  immortal,is  essential  to  every  step  in 
life. 

20.  Prophecies,  miracles,  and  all  the  other^  proofs 
of  our  religion,  are  not  of  that  sort,  that  we  can  say 
they  are  geometrically  convincing.  But,  at  present, 
it  is  sufficient  if  you  grant  me,  that  it  is  not  contrary 
to  sound  reason  to  believe  them.  They  have  their 
brightness  and  their  obscurity,  calculated  to  illuminate 
some,  and  to  darken  others.  But  the  brightness  is 
such,  that  it  outshines,  or,  at  the  least,  equals  the 
clearest  presumption  to  the  contrary;  so  much  |so, 
that  sound  reason  never  can  determine  not  to  accept 
the  evidence,  and  probably  it  is  only  the  corruption 
and  depravity  of  the  heart  that  do.  There  is  in  the 
evidence,  also,  sufficient  plainness  to  condemn  those 
who  refuse  to  believe,  though  not  enough  to  compel 
belief;  and  hence  it  is  evident,  that  in  those  who  fol- 
low the  light,  it  is  grace,  and  not  reason,  which  causes 
them  to  pursue ;  and  in  those  who  turn  away,  it  is 
their  corruption,  and  not  their  reason,  that  makes 
them  fly  from  it. 

Who  can  hesitate  to  admire  a  religion,  which  is  evi- 
dently so  thoroughly  informed  on  matter,  the  truth  of 
which  we  recognize  increasingly,  in  proportion  to  the 
increase  of  our  light. 

A  man  who  discovers  proofs  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, is  like  a  heritor  finding  the  titles  to  his  property. 
Will  he  say  that  they  are  invalid,  or  neglect  to  exam- 
ine them  ? 

21.  Two  sorts  of  persons  know  God  ;  those  whose 
hearts  are  humbled,  and   who,  whatever  be   the  mea- 


ON  RELIGION.  201 

sure  of  their  intellect,  whether  common  or  elevated, 
love  reproach  and  self-abasement ;  and  those  who  have 
sufficient  determination  to  seek  out,  and  maintain  the 
truth,  whatever  opposition  they  meet  with. 

Those  wise  men  among"  the  heathen,  who  affirmed 
the  unit}^  of  God,  were  persecuted;  the  Jews  were 
hated;  and  Christians  even  more  so. 

22.  The  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  concep- 
tion bj  the  Virgin  Marj^,  appear  to  me  to  present  no 
greater  obstacle  to  belief,  than  the  creation  of  the 
world.  Is  it  more  difficult  to  reproduce  a  man,  than  to 
create  man  at  first?  And  if  we  had  not  become  familiar 
with  the  notion  of  natural  generation,  would  it  have 
been  more  strange  to  us,  that  a  child  should  spring 
from  a  woman  only,  than  from  a  man  and  a  woman  ? 

23.  There  is  a  vast  difference  between  peace  and 
assurance  of  conscience.  Nothing  short  of  a  sincere 
search  after  truth,  should  give  peace  ;  but  nothing  short 
of  an  actual  possession  of  truth  itself  can  give  9^su]> 
ance. 

There  are  two  articles  of  faith,  equally  unquestion- 
able ;  the  one,  that  man  in  his  primitive  state,  or  in  a 
state  of  grace,  is  elevated  above  all  the  natural  world, 
is  assimilated  to  God,  and  made  a  partaker  of  the  di- 
vine nature  ;  other,  that  in  this  state  of  corruption  and 
of  sin,  he  is  fallen  from  that  elevation,  and  become 
like  the  brute  creation.  These  two  propositions  are- 
equally  true.  The  Scripture  affirms  both  of  these 
unequivocally.  In  Prov.  viii.  31.  My  delight  is  with 
the  sons  of  men.  In  Joel  ii.  28.  /  zvill  pour  out  my 
Spiri}  upon  all  Jlesh.  In  Psalm  Ixxxii.  6.  /  have  said^ 
ye  are  gods  ;  and  all  of  your  children  are  of  the  Most 
High.  Then  again,  it  is  said,  in  Isaiah  xl.  6.  All  flesh 
is  grass.,  4'C.  In  Psalm  xlix.  12.  Man  is  like  unto  the 
beasts  that  perish.  And  in  Eccles.  ii.  18,  19.  I  said  in 
my  heart  concerning  the  estate  of  the  sons  of  men.,  that 
God  might  manifest  them.,  and  that  they  might  see  that 
they  themselves  are  beasts.  For  that  which  befalleth  the 
sons  of  men  befalleth  jjeasts.,  even  one  thing  befalleth  them  : 
as  the  one  dieth.,  so  dieth  the  other^  yea.,  they  have  all  one 


202  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

breathy  so  that  a  man  hath  no  pre-eminence  above  a  beast . 
for  all  is  vanity. 

24.  The  instances  of  the  heroic  death  of  Spartans 
and  others,  affect  us  very  little ;  for  in  what  way  do 
they  bear  upon  our  case  ?  But  the  death  of  the  martyrs 
comes  home  to  our  bosoms,  for  they  are  our  very 
members  ;  we  have  one  common  interest  with  them  ; 
their  resolution  may  go  to  form  our  own.  There  is 
nothing  of  this  in  the  instances  of  heathen  heroism; 
we  have  no  point  of  union  with  them.  In  the  same 
way  as  I  am  not  made  wealthy  by  the  enriching  of  a 
stranger,  but  I  am  by  the  wealth  of  a  parent  or  a 
husband. 

25.  We  can  never  break  off  an  attachment  without 
pain.  As  St.  Augustine  says,  A  man  does  not  feel  the 
chain,  when  he  voluntarily  follows  him  who  leads  him 
by  it ;  but  when  he  begins  to  resist,  and  to  go  the 
other  way,  then  he  suffers — the  chain  tightens,  and 
suffers  violence.  Such  a  chain  is  our  body,  which  breaks 
only  by  death.  Our  Lord  has  said,  from  the  coming  of 
John  the  Baptist,  (i.  e.*  from  his  entrance  into  the  heart 
of  each  believer,)  The  kingdom  of  heaven  mffereth  vio- 
lence^ and  the  violent  take  it  by  force.  Before  the  heart 
is  touched,  we  have  only  the  dead  weight  of  our 
corruption,  dragging  us  down  to  the  earth.  But  when 
God  draws  us  from  above,  there  arises  between  these 
opposing  influences,  that  fearful  struggle  in  which  God 
alone  can  overcome.  But,  as  St.  Leon  says,  We  can 
do  every  thing  through  him,  without  whom  we  can  do 
nothing.  We  must  resolve,  then,  to  sustain  this  war- 
fare all  our  life  long,  for  here  there  cannot  be  peace. 
Jesus  Christ  is  7iot  come  to  bring  peace  on  earthy  but  a 
sword.  But  yet  we  must  admit,  that  as  the  wisdom  of 
men  is  foolishness  with  God,  so  even  this  warfare  which 
seems  so  trying  to  men,  is  actually  peace  with  God  ;  it 
is  the  very  experience  of  that  peace,  which  Jesus 
Christ  has  accomplished.     It  cannot,  however,  be  per- 


*  This  is  an  accommodation  of  the  text,  but  it  is  ingenious. 


ON  RELIGION.  203 

fected  in  us,  till  the  body  is  dissolved.  And  this  it  is 
which  gives  rise  to  the  wish  for  death,  even  while  we 
cheerfully  endure  a  lengthened  life  for  the  love  of 
him,  who  underwent  both  life  and  death  for  us ;  and 
who,  as  St.  Paul  says,  is  able  to  do  for  us  far  more  abun- 
dantly than  'we  can  ask  or  think. 

26.  We  should  try  never  to  be  afflicted  at  any  thing, 
but  to  consider  every  event  as  happening  for  the  best. 
I  believe  this  to  be  a  duty,  and  that  we  sin  in  not  per- 
forming it.  For,  in  fact,  the  reason  why  sin  is  sin,  is 
merely  its  contrariety  to  the  will  of  God;  and  thus, 
the  essence  of  sin  consisting  in  opposition  to  that  which 
we  know  to  be  the  will  of  God,  it  appears  to  me  evi- 
dent, that  when  He  discovers  to  us  his  will  by  the 
events  of  his  Providence,  it  is  sin  not   to  approve  it. 

27.  When  truth  is  abandoned  and  persecuted,  then 
is  the  time  apparently,  when  our  services  in  its  de- 
fence are  most  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God.  We  may 
judge  of  grace  by  the  analogies  of  nature  ;  and  hence, 
we  are  allowed  to  conclude,  that  as  an  expatriated 
prince  feels  a  peculiarly  kind  esteem  for  the  few  of  his 
subjects  who  continue  faithful  amidst  a  general  revolt; 
so  will  God  regard,  with  a  peculiar  favor,  those  who 
defend  the  purity  of  religion  in  a  day  of  rebuke  and 
blasphemy.  But  there  is  difference  between  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  and  the  King  of  kings,  that  princes 
do  not  make  their  subjects  faithful,  they  find  them  so  ; 
whilst  God  finds  all  men  faithless,  who  are  without  his 
grace,  and  makes  them  faithful  when  they  are  so. 
So  that  whilst  on  the  one  hand,  kings  must  confess 
their  obligations  to  those  who  remain  dutiful  and  obe- 
dient ;  on  the  other,  those  who  remain  steadfast  in 
the  service  of  God,  owe  it  as  a  matter  of  infinite  obli- 
gation to  him  only. 

/  28.  Neither  the  discipline  of  the  body,  nor  the  dis- 
Jtresses  of  the  mind,  are  really  meritorious.  It  is  on- 
My  the  gracious  emotions  of  the  heart,  that  sustain  the 
I  body  and  the  mind  in  suffering,  and  attach  a  value  to 
1  such  sorrows.  For,  in  fact,  these  two  things,  pains 
\aQd  pleasures,  are  needful  for  sanctification.     St.  Paul 


2.04  MISCELLANEOUS  THorOHTS 

/has  said,  that  we  must,  through  much  tribulation,  en- 
J;er  the  kingdom  of  God.  This  should  comfort  those 
who  experience  trial,  because  having  learned  that  the 
way  to  the  heaven  which  they  seek,  is  full  of  trouble, 
it  should  rejoice  them  to  recognize  such  proofs  that 
they  are  in  the  right  road.  But  those  very  pains  are 
not  without  their  pleasures,  and  the  overcoming  of 
them  is  always  accompanied  with  pleasure.  For,  as 
those  who  forsake  God,  to  return  to  the  world,  do  so 
only  because  they  find  more  delight  in  the  pleasures  of 
earth,  than  in  those  which  flow  from  union  with  God, 
and  that  such  charms  carry  them  triumphantly  away, 
and  causing  them  to  repent  their  former  choice,  make 
them,  at  last,  as  Tertullian  says,  the  devil's  penitents; 
so  no  one  ever  quits  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  to  em- 
brace the  cross  of  Christ,  if  he  has  not  found  more  de- 
light in  reproach,  and  poverty,  and  destitution,  and 
the  scorn  of  men,  than  in  all  the  pleasures  of  sin.  And 
thus,  as  Tertullian  says,  we  must  not  suppose  the 
Christian's  life  to  be  a  life  of  sorrow.  He  abandons 
not  the  pleasures  of  earth,  but  for  others  far  more 
noble.  St  F3.u\  snys,  Pray  zvithout  ceasing;  in  every 
thing  give  thanks  ;  rejoice  evermore.  It  is  the  joy  of 
having  found  God,  which  is  the  real  principle  of  our 
regret  at  having  offended  him,  and  of  our  whol«3  change 
of  life.  He  who  has  found  the  ^rea5«re  hid  in  a  field^ 
has^  accordingto  Jesus  Christ,  such  a  joy  thereof]  that  he 
sells  all  that  he  has  to  buy  it.  Matth.  xiii.  44.  The  men  of 
the  world  have  their  sorrow  ;  but  they  have  not  that 
joy,  which  as  Christ  sa^^s,  the  world  can  neither  give  nor 
take  axvay.  The  blessed  in  heaven  have  this  joy, 
without  any  alloy  of  grief  Christians  here  have  this 
joy,  mingled  with  regret,  at  having  sought  after  ques- 
tionable pleasures,  and  with  the  fear  of  losing  it, 
through  the  influence  of  those  indulgences,  which  still 
minister  unceasing  temptation.  We  should  endeavor 
then  continually  to  cherish  this  fear,  which  husbands 
and  regulates  our  joy  ;  and  according  as  we  find  our- 
selves leaning  too  much  to  the  one,  we  should  incline 
towards  the  other,  that  we  may  be  kept  from  falling. 


m 


ON  RELIGIO.V.  205 

Remember  your  blessings  in  the  day  of  your  sorrow, 
and  in  the  day  of  prosperity  remember  your  afflic- 
tions, till  that  day,  when  the  promise  of  Jesus,  that 
our  joy  in  him  shall  be  full,  is  accomplished.  L«t  us 
not  give  v/ay  to  melancholy.  Let  us  not  conceive 
that  piety  consists  in  unmitigated  bitterness  of  soul. 
True  piety,  which  is  only  perfected  in  heaven,  is  so 
full  of  consolations,  that  they  are  showered  on  its  be- 
ginning, its  progress,  and  its  crown.  It  is  a  light  so 
brilliant,  that  it  reflects  illumination  on  all  which  be- 
longs to  it.  Ifsome  sorrow  mingles  with  it,  especially 
at  the  commencement,  this  originates  in  us,  not  in  the 
way  that  we  take.  It  is  not  the  result  of  piety  newly 
infused  into  us,  but  of  the  impiety  which  yet  remains. 
Take  away  sin,  and  unmingled  joy  is  left.  If  we 
mourn  then,  let  us  not  lay  the  blame  upon  our  relig- 
ion, but  upon  ourselves  ;  and  let  us  seek  only  in  oufr 
own  amendment  for  relief. 

29.  The  past  should  present  to  us  no  difficulties, 
since  we  have  but  one  duty  towards  it — regret  for  our 
errors  ;  the  future  should  still  less  trouble  us  ;  because 
it  is  not  in  the  least  degree,  under  our  control,  and  we 
may  never  reach  it.  The  present  is  the  only  moment 
which  is  really  ours,  and  we  ought  to  occupy  it  for 
God.  To  this  our  thoughts  should  chiefly  be  direct- 
ed. Yet  man,  in  general,  is  so  restless,  that  he  scarce- 
ly ever  thinks  of  the  life  present  and  the  actual  instant 
of  his  existence  now,  but  only  of  that  in  which  he 
will-  live  hereafter.  His  propensity  is  always  to  live 
prospectively,  but  never  to  live  now.  Yet  our  Lord 
did  not  wish  our  forethougL.  to  go  beyond  the  day  in 
which  we  now  live.  These  are  the  limits  which  he 
requires  us  to  keep,  both  for  our  future  safety,  and 
our  present  peace. 

30.  We  sometimes  learn  more  from  the  sight  of 
evil,  than  from  an  example  of  good ;  and  it  is  well  to 
accustom  ourselves  to  profit  by  the  evil  which  is  so 
common,  while  that  which  is  good  is  so  rare. 

31.  In  the  13th  chapter  of  Mark,  Jesus  Christ 
speaks  largely  to  his  apostles  of  his  second  coming  j 

17 


206  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

and  as  the  experience  of  the  church  in  general,  is  the 
experience  of  every  Christian  in  particular,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  this  chapter  predicts,  not  only  the  entire  de- 
struction of  the  world,  to  make  way  for  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth,  but  also  the  state  of  each  individual, 
in  whom,  at  his  conversion,  the  old  man  is  destroyed. 
The  prediction  which  it  contains  of  the  ruin  of  the 
reprobated  temple,  which  represents  the  ruin  of  the 
old  and  reprobate  man  in  each  of  us;  and  of  which  it 
is  said,  that  not  one  stone  shall  be  left  upon  another, 
indicates  that  not  one  affection  of  the  old  man  shall  be 
suffered  to  remain ;  and  those  fearful,  civil,  and  do- 
mestic wars  which  are  there  foretold,  are  a  too  accu- 
rate picture  of  the  inward  conflict  that  they  feel  who 
give  themselves  up  to  God. 

33.  The  elect  are  unconscious  of  their  virtues  ;  the 
reprobate  of  their  crimes.  Both  will  say  at  the  last 
day.  Lord  ^ochen  sa^oo  we  thee  an  hungered.     Matth.  xxv. 

Jesus  Christ  did  not  desire  the  testimony  of  devils, 
nor  of  those  who  were  not  called;  but  of  God,  and  of 
John  the  Baptist. 

34.  The  faults  of  Montaigne  are  very  great.  He 
abounds  with  improper  and  impure  expressions.  His 
thoughts  on  wilful  murder,  and  on  death,  are  dreadful. 
He  inspires  an  indifference  about  salvation,  without 
fear  or  repentance.  As  his  book  was  not  written  to 
inculcate  religion,  he  need  not  have  pressed  it ;  but  a 
man  is  bound  not  to  write  against  it.  Whatever  may 
be  said  to  excuse  the  licence  of  his  opinions  on  many 
subjects,  it  is  impossible  in  any  way  to  palliate  his 
heathen  notions  about  death.  For  a  man  must  have 
utterl}^  renounced  all  religion,  who  does  not,  at  all 
events,  wish  to  die  like  a  Christian  :  now  throughout 
his  whole  book,  he  thinks  onl}'^  of  dying  basely  and 
contemptibly. 

36.  With  those  who  have  an  aversion  to  religion, 
we  should  begin  by  shewing  them,  that  it  is  not  con- 
trary to  reason  ;  then  that  it  is  venerable  and  worthy 
of  tneir  respect ;  next,  we  should  put  it  before  them 
in  an  amiable  light,  and  lead  them  to  wish  that  it  were 


ON  RELIGIOX-  207 

true  ;  and  lastly,  shew  them  by  positive  proof  that  it  is 
true ;  point  out  its  antiquity  and  purity,  its  dignity  and 
elevation ;  and  finally,  its  loveliness,  as  promising  to  us 
the  true  good. 

One  word  from  David  or  Moses,  such  as,  God  will 
circumcise  your  hearts^  serves  to  determine  men's 
views.  Let  all  the  rest  of  a  man's  course  be  doubtful, 
and  let  it  be  uncertain  whether  he  is  a  Philosopher  or 
a  Christian  ;  one  sentence  like  this  gives  a  color  to  all 
the  rest.  Up  to  that  point  there  may  be  doubt ;  but 
not  afterwards. 

Though  we  should  be  in  error  in  believing  the 
Christian  religion  true,  we  should  lose  but  little  by 
it.  But  how  sad  to  have  been  in  error,  in  believing  it 
false. 

37.  Those  circumstances  in  life,  which,  according 
to  the  world,  are  the  easiest  to  live  in,  are  the  most 
difficult  according  to  the  will  of  God.  On  the  contra- 
ry, nothing  is  so  difficult  in  the  estimation  of  the 
world,  as  the  religious  life  ;  whilst,  according  to  God's 
rule,  there  is  nothing  more  easy.  Nothing  is  easier 
than  to  perform  important  duties,  and  manage  great 
wealth,  according  to  the  morality  of  the  world.  Noth- 
ing is  more  difficult  than  to  live  to  God  in  such  a  situ- 
ation, without  acquiring  an  interest,  and  a  conformity 
of  taste  for  such  pursuits. 

38.  The  Old  Testament  contained  a  typical  repre- 
sentation of  future  happiness,  and  the  New  Testament 
teaches  the  way  to  obtain  it.  The  typical  sense  was 
full  of  joy;  but  the  way  to  the  reality  is  penitence. 
And  yet,  even  then,  the  paschal  Lamb  was  eaten  with 
bitter  herbs ;  a  perpetual  lesson,  that  bitterness  and 
sorrow  are  the  road  to  joy. 

39.  The  apparently  casual  utterance  of  the  word 
Galilee  by  the  Jewish  crowd,  when  they  accused  Je- 
sus before  Pilate,  gave  occasion  to  Pilate  to  send  him 
to  Herod,  by  which  event,  the  mystery  was  fulfilled, 
that  he  should  be  judged  both  by  the  Jews  and  the 
Gentiles.  A  mere  accident,  as  far  as  we  see,  led  to  the 
fulfilment  of  the  predetermined  myster}^ 


208  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

41.  It  is  pleasant  to  be  in  a  vessel  beaten  by  the 
storm,  when  we  have  the  assurance  of  safety.  This 
is  precisely  the  character  of  the  persecutions  of  the 
church. 

The  history  of  the  church,  should  be  called  a  his- 
tory of  truth. 

42.  The  two  great  sources  of  our  sins  are  pride  and 
indolence  ^  and  God  has  been  pleased  to  make  known, 
in  himself,  two  corresponding  means  of  cure,  his  mer- 
cy and  his  justice.  The  proper  effect  of  his  justice 
is  to  abase  our  pride  ;  and  that  of  his  mercy,  is  to 
overcome  our  indolence,  by  stimulating  us  to  good 
works  according  to  that  text,  Romans  ii.  4.  The  good- 
ness of  God  leadeth  thee  to  repentance  ;  and  that  of  the 
Ninevites,  Jonah  iii.  9.  Who  can  tell  if  God  will  re- 
turn  and  repent^  and  turn  azi^ay  from  his  fierce  anger^ 
that  we  perish  not.  And  thus,  so  far  is  the  mercy  of 
God  from  encouraging  licentiousness,  that,  on  the  con- 
trary, nothing  is  so  directly  opposed  to  it.  And  iir- 
stead  ot  saying,  "  If  there  had  not  been  mercy  in  God, 
we  must  have  made  a  more  strenuous  effort  to  obey 
his  laws  ;"  we  ought,  on  the  contrary,  to  say,  "  Be- 
cause He  is  a  God  bf  mercy,  we  must  do  our  utmost 
to  obey  him." 

43.  All  that  is  in  the  world  is  the  lust  of  the  fleshy 
the  lust  of  the  fyes^  and  the  pride  of  life.  Woe  for  that 
land  of  curse,  along  which  these  three  streams  pour 
forth  their  waves  of  kindling  flame.  Happy  they, 
who,  though  they  lie  upon  the  bosom  of  these 
streams,  are  neither  engulpked  nor  hurried  down  by 
them,  but  remain  immoveably  secure  ;  not  however 
standing  boldly  erect,  but  occupying  a  safe,  though 
humble  seat,  from  which  they  rise  not  till  the  light 
shall  dawn  ;  but  who,  resting  there  in  peace,  spread 
forth  their  hands  to  Him  who  can,  and  will  deliver 
them,  and  plant  their  feet  firmly  within  the  gates  of 
the  holy  city,-wliere  they  need  fear  the  assaults  of 
human  pride  no  more  ; — and  who  yet  weep,  not  to  see 
the  perishing  goods  of  this  world  rolling  down  that 
fearful  tide,  but  at  the  remembrance   of  that  laud,  a 


ON  RELIGION'.  209 

better  land,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  for  which  they 
sigh  incessantly,  through  the  period  of  a  lengthened 
exile. 

44.  A  miracle,  they  say,  would  determine  our  be- 
lief. Men  speak  thus,  while  they  see  no  further. 
But  those  reasons,  which,  when  seen  at  a  distance, 
seem  to  limit  our  range,  do  not  limit  us  when  we  have 
attained  to  them.  We  begin  a  fresh  prospect  from 
that  very  point.  Nothing  bounds  the  rapid  march  of 
mind.  There  is  scarcely,  it  is  said,  a  rule  without  an 
exception  ;  nor  a  truth  so  general,  but  that  there  are 
some  cases  in  which  its  application  is  questionable.  It 
is  sufficient  that  it  is  not  absolutely  universal,  to  give 
us  a  pretext  for  assuming  that  the  case  in  point  is  the 
exception,  and  to  say,  "  That  is  not  always  true.; 
then  there  are  cases  when  it  is  not  true:"  then  it 
only  remains  to  shew,  that  this  is  one  of  such  cases, 
and  it  were  inexpert  indeed  not  to  manage  that  some 
way. 

45.  Charity  is  not  a  metaphorical  precept.  To  say 
that  Jesus  Christ,  who  came  to  supersede  types,  by 
realities,  is  only  come  to  teach  a  metaphorical  charity, 
and  to  annul  the  real  virtue  which  existed  before,  is 
abominable. 

46.  How  many  stars  have  our  glasses  discovered, 
which  were  formerly  invisible  to  our  philosophers  ! 
They  boldly  attacked  the  Scripture,  because  they 
found  it  frequently  speaking  of  the  great  number  of 
the  stars.  They  said,  "  There  are  but  one  thousand 
and  twenty  two  in  all ;  we  have  counted  them." 

47.  Man  is  so  constituted,  that  by  merely  telling  him 
he  is  a  fool,  he  will,  at  length,  believe  it ;  and,  if  he 
tells  himself  so,  he  will  make  himself  believe  it.  For 
man  holds  an  inward  communication  with  himself, 
which  ought  to  be  well  regulated,  since  even  here, 
Evil  communications  corrupt  good  manners.  We  ought 
to  keep  silence  as  much  as  possible,  and  commune  with 
ourselves  of  God,  and  thus  we  shall  soon  convince  our- 
selves of  what  we  really  are. 

49.  Our  own  will,  even  in  the  possession  of  all  that 
17* 


210  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

it  can  desire,  would  not  be  satisfied.  But  the  instant 
we  renounce  it,  we  are  content.  With  it,  we  cannot 
but  be  dissatisfied;  without  it,  we  cannot  but  be  happy. 

The  true  and  only  virtue,  consists  in  self-abhor- 
rence ;  because  corruption  has  made  us  hateful  ;  and 
in  seeking  a  being  truly  worthy  of  love,  that  we  may 
love  him.  But  as  we  cannot  love  that  which  is  be- 
yond us,  we  must  love  a  being  who  is  within  us,  but 
not  identified  v*'ith  us.  Now,  none  but  the  Omnipres- 
ent Being  can  be  such.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  'u:iihin 
us.  The  universal  Good  dwells  in  us,  yet  is  He  dis- 
tinct from  us. 

It  is  unwise  in  any  one  to  become  fondly  attached 
to  us,  thoitgh  it  be,  on  their  part,  a  matter  of  volun- 
tary choice  and  of  delight.  We  cannot  but  deceive 
those  in  whom  we  have  created  such  an  affection — 
for  we  cannot  be  to  any  one  their  ultimate  object,  or 
give  them  plenary  enjoyment.  Are  we  not  ourelves 
ready  to  perish  ?  And  so  the  object  of  their  regard  must 
die.  As  we  should  be  criminal  in  making  any  one  believe 
a  falsehood,  though  we  persuaded  him  to  it  kindly,  and 
he  believed  it  with  pleasure,  and  gave  us  pleasure  by 
believing;  so  are  we  guilty,  if  we  make  others  love 
us,  and  try  to  allure  their  affections  to  ourselves. 
Wliatever  advantage  might  accrue  to  us  by  a  false- 
hood, we  ought  to  inform  those  who  are  about  to  be- 
lieve it,  that  it  is  not  true.  And  so  also  should  we 
warn  our  fellows  against  an  attachment  to  ourselves, 
when  their  whole  life  should  be  spent  in  seeking  af- 
ter God,  or  in  studying  to  please  him. 

50.  It  is  superstition  to  repose  our  confidence  in 
forms  and  ceremonies ;  but  not  to  submit  to  them  i& 
pride. 

51.  All  other  sects  and  religions  have  had  natural 
reason  for  their  guide.  Christians  only  have  been 
compelled  to  look  beyond  themselves  for  a  rule  of 
guidance,  and  to  study  that  which  Jesus  Christ  deliv- 
ered to  the  primitive  saints,  for  transmission  to  his 
people.     There  are  some  who  fret  under  this  control. 


ON  RELIGION.  211 

They  wish,  like  other  people,  to  follow  their  own 
inclinations.  It  is  vain  for  us  to  say  to  them,  Stand  ye 
in  the  ivay^  and  ask  for  the  old  paths ^  where  is  the  good 
way,  and  walk  therein.  They  answer  like  the  Jews, 
We  will  not  walk  therein  ;  hut  we  will  certainly  do  ac- 
cording to  the  thoughts  of  our  own  heart,  like  the  nations 
round  about  us. 

52.  There  are  three  means  of  faith,  reasoning,  cus- 
tom, and  inspiration.  The  Christian  religion,  which 
alone  has  reason  to  support  it,  admits  not  as  its  true 
converts,  those  who  believe  without  inspiration.  Not 
that  it  excludes  the  influences  of  reasoning  and  custom: 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  right  that  the  mind  be  open  to 
rational  proof,  and  acquire  strength  of  faith  by  habit. 
Still  our  religion  requires,  that  we  humble  ourselves  to 
ask  those  spiritual  influences  which  alone  can  produce 
a  true  and  saving  faith.  As  St.  Paul  says,  JVot  zvith  wis- 
dom  of  lioords,  lest  the  cross  of  Christ  he  of  none  effect. 

53.  We  never  do  evil  so  thoroughly  and  cordially, 
as  when  we  are  led  to  it  by  a  false  principle  of  con- 
science.* 

54.  The  Jews  who  were  called  to  subdue  nations 
and  their  kings,  have  been  the  slaves  of  sin ;  and 
Christians  whose  calling  waste  serve,  and  be  subject, 
are    "  the  children  that  are  free." 

55.  Is  it  courage  in  a  dying  man,  to  go  in  his  weak- 
ness, and  in  his  agony,  and  face  the  omnipotent  and 
eternal  God  ? 

56.  I  readily  believe  that  history,  the  witnesses  of 
which  have  died  a  violent  death  in  its  support.! 

57.  A  proper  fear  of  God  originates  in  faith ;  a 
wrong  fear,  in  doubt : — a  right  fear  tends  towards  hope, 
because  it  springs  from  faith,  and  we  do  hope  in  the 
God  whom  we  really  believe  : — an  improper  fear 
leads  to  despair,  because  we  dread  him  in   whom   we 


*  Witness  the  case  of  Saul  of  Tarsus.  A.  E. 

t  The  history  of  the  world  shows,  that  this  is  not  a  sure    cri- 
terion.   Martyrdom  alone  is  not  a  test  of  truth.  A.  E. 


212  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS. 

have  not  faith.  This  fears  to  lose  God,  and  that  to 
find  him. 

51.  Solomon  and  Job  knew  best,  and  exhibited  most 
accurately  the  misery  of  man;  the  one  being  the  hap- 
piest, the  other  the  most  wretched  of  men :  the  one 
knowing  experimentally  the  vanity  of  this  world's 
pleasure  :  the  other,  the  reality  of  its  afflictions. 

69.  The  heathen  spoke  ill  of  Israel ;  and  so  also 
did  the  prophet, — and  so  far  from  the  Israelites  having 
a  right  to  say,  "  You  speak  as  the  heathen,"  it  appears 
that  one  of  his  strongest  arguments  was  drawn  fromi 
the  fact,  that  the  heathen  spake  like  him. 

6.  God  does  not  propose  that  we  should  submit  to 
him  contrary  to  our  reason,  or  that  he  should  make  us 
the  subject  of  a  mere  tyrannical  authority.  At  the 
same  time,  he  does  not  profess  to  give  us  reasons  for 
every  thing  he  does.  And  to  reconcile  these  contrarie- 
ties, he  is  pleased  to  exhibit  to  us  clear  and  convin- 
cing proofs  of  what  he  is,  and  to  establish  his  authority 
w4th  us,  by  miracles  and  proofs  which  we  cannot  hon- 
estly reject ;  so  that  subsequently,  which  we  may  be- 
lieve without  hesitation,  the  mysteries  which  he  teach- 
es, when  we  perceive  that  we  have  no  other  ground 
for  rejecting  them,  but  that  we  are  not  able  of  ourselves 
to  ascertain  whether  they  are  so  as  they  appear  or  not. 

61.  Mankind  is  divided  into  three  classes  of  persons  ; 
those  who  have  found  out  God,  and  are  serving  him  ; 
those  who  are  occupied  in  seeking  after  God,  and  have 
not  yet  found  him ;  and  those  who  have  not  only  not 
found  God,  but  are  not  seeking  him.  The  first  are 
wise  and  happy;  the  last  are  foolish  and  unhappy; 
the  middle  class  are  wise,  and  yet  unhappy. 

62.  Men  frequently  mistake  their  imagination  for 
their  heart,  and  believe  that  they  are  converted  as 
soon  as  they  begin  to  think  of  turning  to  God. 

Reason  acts  so  tardily,  and  on  the  ground  of  so 
many  different  views  and  principles,  which  she  requires 
to  have  always  before  her,  that  she  is  continually  be- 
coming drowsy  and  inert,  or  going  actively  astray,  for 
want  of  seeing  the  whole  case  at  once.      It  is  just  the 


ON  RELIGION-  213 

reverse  with  feeling;  it  acts  at  once,  and  is  ever  ready 
for  action.  It  were  well  then,  after  our  reason  has 
ascertained  what  is  truth,  to  endeavor  to  feel  it,  and  to 
associate  our  faith  with  the  affections  of  the  heart  ;  for 
without  this  it  will  ever  be  wavering  and  uncertain. 
The  heart  has  its  reasons,  of  which  reason  knows 
nothing.  We  find  this  in  a  thousand  instances.  It  is 
the  heart  which  feels  God,  and  not  the  reasoning  pow- 
ers. And  this  is  faith  made  perfect: — -God  realized 
by  feeling  in  the  heart.* 

63.  It  is  an  essential  feature  of  the  character  of 
God,  that  his  justice  is  infinite,  as  well  as  his  mercy. 
Yet  certainly  his  justice  and  severity  towards  the  im- 
penitent, are  less  surprising  than  his  mercy  towards  the 
elect. 

64.  Man  is  evidently  made  for  thinking.  Thought 
is  all  his  dignity,  and  all  his  worth.  To  think  rightly, 
is  the  whole  of  his  duty ;  and  the  true  order  of 
thought,  is  to  begin  with  himself,  with  his  author, 
and  his  end.  Yet  on  what  do  men  in  general  think  ? 
Never  on  these  things  ;  but  how  to  obtain  pleasure, 
wealth,  or  fame  ;  how  to  become  kings,  without  con- 
sidering what  it  is  to  be  a  king,  or  even  to  be  a  man. 

Human  thought  is  in  its  nature  wonderful.  To 
make  it  contemptible,  it  must  have  some  strange  de- 
fects ;  and  yet  it  has  such,  that  nothing  appears  more 
ridiculous.  How  exalted  in  its  nature  ?  How  degraded 
in  its  misuse. 

65.  If  there  is  a  God,  we  ought  to  love  him — not 
his  creatures.  The  reasonings  of  the  wicked  in  the 
Book  of  Wisdom,  are  founded  on  their  persuasion, 
that  there  is  no  God.  They  say.  Grant  this,  and  our 
delight  shall  be  in  the  creature.  But,  had  they  known 
that  there  is  a  God,  they  would  have  drawn  a  different 
conclusion ;  and  that  is  the  conclusion  of  the  wise. 
"  There  is  a  God  5  seek  not  for  happiness  in  creatures." 


*  With  the /lear^  man  believeth  unto  righteousness.     Rom. 
10:  10.  A.  E. 


214  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 


Then  every  thing  which  allures  tis  towards  the  love 
of  the  creature,  is  evil,  because  it  so  far  hinders  us 
from  serving  God  if  we  know  him ;  or  from  seeking 
him  if  we  do  not.  Now,  we  are  full  of  concupis- 
cence. Then  we  are  full  of  evil.  We  must  learn, 
then,  to  abhor  ourselves,  and  all  that  would  attach  us 
to  an}^  other  than  God  only. 

66.  When  we  would  think  of  God,  how  many  things 
we  find  which  turn  us  away  from  him,  and  tempt  us  to 
think  otherwise.     All  this  is  evil;  yet  it  is  innate. 

67.  That  we  are  worthy  of  the  love  of  others,  is 
false.  To  wish  for  their  love,  is  unjust.  Had  we 
been  born  in  a  right  state  of  mind,  and  with  a  due 
knowledge  of  ourselves  and  others,  we  should  not 
have  felt  this  wish.  Yet  we  are  born  with  it.  We 
are  then  born  unjust.  Each  one  regards  himself. 
That  is  contrary  to  all  order.  Each  should  regard  the 
general  good.  This  selfish  bias  is  the  source  of  all 
error,  in  war,  in  government,  and  in  economy,  &;c. 

If  the  members  of  each  national  and  civil  commu- 
nity should  seek  the  good  of  the  whole  body,  these 
communities  themselves  should  seek  the  good  of  that 
whole  body  of  which  they  are  members. 

He  who  does  not  hate  in  himself  that  sell-love,  and 
that  propensity  which  leads  him  to  exalt  himself  above 
all  others,  must  be  blind  indeed  ;  for  nothing  is  more 
directly  contrary  to  truth  and  justice.  For  it  is  false 
that  we  deserve  this  exaltation ;  and  to  attain  it,  is 
both  unjust  and  impossible ;  for  every  one  seeks  it. 
This  disposition  with  which  we  are  born,  is  manifestly 
unjust — an  evil  from  which  we  cannot,  but  from  which 
we  ought  to  free  ourselves. 

Yet,  no  other  religion  but  the  Christian  has  con- 
demned this  as  a  sin,  or  shewn  that  we  are  born  with 
it ;  and  that  we  ought  to  resist  it,  or  suggested  a  means 
of  cure. 

68.  There  is  in  man,  an  internal  war  between  his 
reason  and  his  passions.  He  might  have  enjoyed  some 
little  repose,  had  he  been  gifted  with  reason,  without 
the  passions,  or  with  passions  independently  of  reason. 


1 


ON  RELIGION.  215 

But,  possessed  as  he  is  of  both,  he  cannot  but  be  in  a 
state  of  conflict,  for  he  cannot  make  peace  with  the 
one,  without  being  at  war  with  the  other. 

If  it  is  an  unnatural  blindness  to  live  without  inquiry 
as  to  what  we  really  are  ;  it  is  surely  a  far  more  fear- 
ful state,  to  live  in  sin,  while  we  acknowledge  God. 
The  greater  part  of  men  are  the  subjects  of  one  or 
other  of  these  states  of  blindness. 

69.  It  is  certain  that  the  soul  is  either  mortal  or 
immortal.  The  decision  of  this  question  must  make 
a  total  difference  in  the  principles  of  morals.  Yet 
philosophers  have  arranged  their  moral  system  en- 
tirely independent  of  this.  What  an  extraordinarj' 
blindness  ! 

However  bright  they  make  the  comedy  of  life 
appear  before,  the  last  act  is  always  stained  with 
blood.  The  earth  is  laid  upon  our  head,  and  there  it 
lies  forever. 

70.  When  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth, 
which  could  feel  no  happiness  in  their  own  existence, 
it  pleased  him  to  create  also  a  race  of  beings  who 
should  feel  this,  and  who  should  constitute  a  com- 
pound body  of  thinking  members.  All  men  are  mem- 
bers of  this  body  ;  and  in  order  to  their  happiness,  it 
was  requisite  that  their  individual  and  private  will  be 
conformed  to  the  general  will  by  which  the  whole 
body  is  regulated.  Yet  it  often  happens,  that  one 
man  thinks  himself  an  independent  whole;  and  that, 
losing  sight  of  the  body  with  which  he  is  associated, 
he  believes  that  he  depends  only  on  himself,  and  wish- 
es to  be  his  own  centre,  and  his  own  circumference. 
But  he  finds  himself  in  this  state,  like  a  member  am- 
putated from  the  body,  and  that  having  in  himself  no 
prihciple  of  life,  he  only  wanders  and  becomes  more 
confused  in  the  uncertainty  of  his  own  existence. — 
But  when,  at  length,  a  man  begins  rightly  to  know 
himself,  he  is,  as  it  were,  returned  to  his  senses ;  then 
he  feels  that  he  is  not  the  body  ;  he  understands  thea 
that  he  is  only  a  member  of  the  universal  body,  and 
that  to  be  a  member,  is  to  have  no  life,  being,  or  mo* 


216  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

tion,  but  by  the  spirit  of  the  body,  and  for  the  body, — 
that  a  member  separated  from  the  body  to  which  it 
belongs,  has  only  a  remnant  and  expiring  existence ; 
and  that  he  ought  not  to  love  himself,  but  for  the  sake 
of  the  body,  or  rather  that  he  should  love  only  the 
whole  body,  because  in  loving  that,  he  loves  himself, 
seeing  that  in  it,  for  it,  and  by  it,  only  has  he  any  ex- 
istence whatever. 

For  the  regulation  of  that  love  which  we  should 
feel  towards  ourselves,  we  should  imagine  ourselves 
a  body  composed  of  thinking  members,  for  we  are 
members  one  of  another ;  and  thus,  consider  how  far 
each  member  should  love  itself 

The  body  loves  the  hand,  and  if  the  hand  had  a  will 
of  its  own,  it  should  love  itself  precisely  in  that  degree 
that  the  body  loves  it.  Any  measure  of  love  that  ex- 
ceeds this  is  unjust. 

If  the  feet  and  the  hands  had  a  separate  will,  they 
would  never  be  in  their  place,  but  in  submitting  it  to 
the  will  of  the  whole  body  ;  to  do  otherwise,  is  insub- 
ordination and  error.  But  in  seeking  exclusively  the 
good  of  the  whole  body,  they  cannot  but  consult  their 
individual  interest. 

The  members  of  our  body  are  not  aware  of  the  ad- 
vantage of  their  union,  of  their  admirable  sympathy, 
and  of  the  care  that  nature  takes  to  infuse  into  them 
vitality,  and  make  them  grow  and  endure.  If  they 
could  know  this,  and  availed  themselves  of  their 
knowledge,  to  retain  in  themselves  the  nourishment 
which  they  received,  without  distributing  it  to  the 
other  members,  they  would  not  only  be  unjust,  but  ac- 
tually miserable — they  would  be  hating,  and  not  loving 
themselves  :  their  happiness,  as  well  as  their  duty,  con- 
sisting in  submission  to  the  guidance  of  that  all  perva- 
ding soul,  which  loves  them  belter  than  they  can  love 
themselves. 

He  who  is  joined  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit.  I  love 
myself,  because  I  am  a  member  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  love 
Jesus  Christ,  because  he  is  the  head  of  the  body  of 
which  I  am  the  member.  All  are  one  ;  each  one  is 
in  the  other. 


ON  RELIGION.  217 

Concupiscence  and  compulsion  are  the  sources  of 
all  our  actions,  purely  human.  Concupiscence  g-ives 
rise  to  voluntary,  and  compulsion  to  involuntary  actions. 

71.  The  Platonists,  and'  even  Eplctetus  and  his  fol- 
lowers maintained,  that  God  only  was  worthy  of  love 
and  admk-ation  ;  yet  they  sought  for  themselves  the 
love  and  admiration  of  men.  They  had  no  idea  of 
their  own  corruption.  If  they  feel  themselves  natu- 
rally led  to  love  and  adore  him,  and  to  seek  in  them 
their  chief  joy,  they  are  welcome  to  account  them- 
selves good.  But  if  they  feel  a  natural  aversion  to 
this.  If  they  have  no  manifest  bias,  but  to  wish  to  es- 
tablish themselves  In  the  good  opinion  of  men  ;  and 
that  all  their  perfection  comes  to  this,  to  lead  men, 
without  compulsion,  to  find  happiness  in  loving  them  ; 
then  I  say  that  such  perfection  is  horrible.  What, 
have  they  known  God,  and  have  not  desired  exclu- 
sively that  his  creatures  should  love  him !  Have 
they  wished  that  the  affections  of  men  should  stop  at 
th_emselves?  Have  they  wished  to  be  to  men,  the 
object  of  their  deliberate  preference  for  happiness  ? 

72.  It  is  true,  that  there  is  difncnlty  in  the  practice 
of  piety.  But  this  difficulty  does  not  arise  from  the 
piety  that  is  now  begun  within  us,  but  from  the  impi- 
ety that  remains.  If  our  sensuality  were  not  opposed 
to  penitence,  and  our  corruption  to  the  divine  purity, 
there  would  be  nothing  painful  in  it.  We  only  suffer 
just  in  proportion  as  the  evil  which  is  natural  to  us, 
resists  the  supernatural  agency  of  grace.  We  feel  our 
heart  rending  under  these  opposing  influences.  But  it 
were  sadly  unjust  to  attribute  this  violence  to  God, 
who  draws  us  to  himself,  rather  than  to  the  world, 
which  holds  us  back.  Our  case  is  like  that  of  an  in- 
fant, whom  its  mother  drags  from  the  arms  of  robbers ; 
and  who,  even  in  the  agony  of  laceration,  must  love 
the  fond  and  legitiniate  violence  of  her  who  struggles 
for  its  liberty,  and  can  only  detest  the  fierce  and  tyran- 
nical might  of  those  who  detain  it  so  unjustly.  The 
most  Cruel  war  that  God  can  wage  against  men  in  this 
life  is,  to  leave  them  without  that  war  which    he  has 

18 


218  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

himself proclaimef],  lam  come,  said  Christ,  to  bring 
•war  ;  and  to  provide  for  this  war,  he  says,  /  am  come 
to  hring  fire  and  szvord.  Matth.  x.  34.  Luke  xii.  49. 
Before  this,  the  world  lived  in  a  false  and  delusive 
peace. 

73.  God  looks  at  the  interior.  The  church*  judges 
only  by  the  exterior.  God  absolves  as  soon  as  he  sees 
penitence  in  the  heart.  The  church  only  when  she 
sees  it  in  our  works.  God  makes  a  church,  which  is 
pure  within,  and  which  confounds,  by  its  internal  and 
spiritual  sanctity,  the  impious  superficial  pretences  of 
the  self-suiEcient  and  the  Pharisee.  And  the  church 
forms  a  company  of  men,  whose  outward  manners  are 
so  pure,  as  to  condemn  the  habits  of  the  heathen.  If 
there  are  within  her  border,  hypocrites  so  well  con- 
cealed, that  she  detects  not  their  maiignitj^  she  permits 
their  continuance,  tor  though  they  are  not  received 
by  God.  whom  ihey  cannot  deceive,  they  are  received 
by  men,  whom  they  can.  In  such  cases,  however, 
the  church  is  not  outwardly  dishonored,  for  their  con- 
duct has  the  semblance  of  holiness. 

74.  The  law  has  not  destroyed  natural  principle ; 
it  instructs  nature.  Grace  has  not  abrogated  the  law  ; 
it  enables  us  to  fulfil  it. 

We  make  an  idol  even  of  truth  itself;  for  truth, 
apart  from  charily,  is  not  God.  It  is  but  his  image,  an 
idol  that  we  ought  neither  to  love  nor  worship  :  still 
less  should  we  love  and  adore  its  contrary,  which  is 
falsehood. 

75.  All  public  amusements  are  full  of  danger  to  the 
Christian  life  ;  but  amongst  all  those  which  the  world 
has  invented,  none  is  more  to  be  feared  than  senti- 
mental comedy.  It  is  a  representation  of  the  passions 
so  natural  and  delicate,  that  it  awakens  them,  and 
gives  ihem  a  fresh  spring  in  the  heart, — especiall}' the 
passion  of  love,  and  still  more  so  when  it  is  exhibited 
as  eminently  chaste  and  virtuous.  For  the  more  inno- 
cent it  is  made  to  appear  to  innocent  minds,  the  more 
are  they  laid  open  to  its  influence.  The  violence  of 
it  g'ratifies  our  sell-love,  which  speedily  desires  to  give 


0]>f  RELIGION.  219 

rise  to  the  same  effects,  which  we  have  seen  repre- 
sented. In  the  mean  while,  also,  conscience  justifies 
itself  by  the  honorable  nature  of  those  feelings  which 
have  been  pourtrayed,  so  far  as  to  calm  the  fears  of  a 
pure  mind,  and  to  sr.g-g-est  the  idea  that  it  can  surely 
be  no  violation  of  purity  to  love  with  an  affection  so 
apparently  rational.  And  thus,  we  leave  the  theatre 
with  a  heart  teeming- with  the  delights  and  the  ten- 
dernesses of  love  ;  and  with  the  understanding  so  per- 
suaded of  its  innocence,  that  we  are  fullj'  prepared 
to  receive  its  first  impressions,  or  rather  to  seek  the 
opportunity  of  giving  birth  to  them  in  the  heart  of 
another,  that  we  may  receive  the  same  pleasures,  and 
the  same  adulation  which  we  saw  so  well  depicted  on 
the  stage. 

76.  Licentious  opinions  are  so  far  naturally  pleas- 
ing to  men,  that  it  is  strange  that  any  should  be  dis- 
pleased with  them.  But  this  is  only  when  they  have 
exceeded  ail  moderate  bounds.  Besides,  there  are 
man}^  people  who  perceive  the  truth,  though  they 
cannot  act  up  to  it.  And  there  are  few  who  do  not 
know  that  the  purity  of  religion  is  opposed  to  such 
lax  opinions,  and  that  it  is  folly  to  affirm,  that  an  eter- 
nal reward  awaits  a  life  of  licentiousness. 

77.  I  feared  that  I  might  have  written  erroneously, 
when  I  saw  myself  condemned  ;  but  the  example  of  so 
many  pious  witnesses  made  me  think  differently.  It 
is  no  longer  allowable  to  write  truth. 

The  Inquisition  is  entirely  corrupt  or  ignorant.  It 
is  better  to  obey  God  than  man.  I  fear  nothing.  I 
hope  for  nothing.  The  Port-Royal  feared.  It  was 
bad  policy  to  separate  the  two,  for  when  they  feared 
the  least,  they  made  themselves  feared  the  most. 

Silence  is  the  bitterest  persecution.  But  the  saints 
have  never  held  their  peace.  It  is  true  that  there 
should  be  a  call  to  speak  ;  but  we  are  not  to  learn  this 
from  the  decrees  of  the  council,  but  from  the  neces- 
sity of  speaking. 

If  my  letters  are  condemned  at  Kome,  that  which  1 
condemned  in  them,  is  condemned  in  heaven. 


220  MISCELLANEOUS   THOUGHTS 

The  Inquisition,  and  the  society  of  Jesuits,  are  the 
two  scourg-es  of  the  truth. 

78.  I  was  asked  first^  if  I  repented  of  having  writ- 
ten the  Provincial  Letters  ?  1  answered.  That  far 
from  repenting,  if  I  had  it  to  do  again,  I  would  write 
them  yet  more  strongly. 

I  was  asked  in  the  second  piace,  why  I  named  the 
authors  from  whom  I  extracted  those  abominable  pas- 
sages which  I  have  cited  ?  I  answered,  If  I  were  in  a 
town  where  there  were  a  dozen  fountains,  and  I  knew 
for  certain  that  one  of  them  was  poisoned,  I  should  be 
under  obligation  to  tell  the  world  not  to  draw  from 
that  fountain ;  and,  as  it.  might  be  supposed,  that  this 
was  a  mere  fanc}^  on  my  part,  1  should  be  oblig-ed  to 
name  him  who  had  poisoned  it,  rather  than  expose  a 
whole  city  to  the  risk  of  death. 

I  was  asked,  thirdly^  why  I  adopted  an  agreeable,  jo- 
cose, and  entertaining'  style  ?  I  answered,  If  ]  had 
written  dogmatically,  none  but  the  learned  would  have 
read  my  book  ;  ahd  they  had  no  need  of  it,  knowing- 
how  the  matter  stood,  at  least  as  well  as  I  did.  I  con- 
ceived it  therelore  my  duty  to  write,  so  that  my  let- 
ters might  be  read  by  women,  and  people  in  general, 
that  they  might  know  the  danger  of  all  those  maxims 
and  propositions  which  were  then  spread  abroad,  and 
admitted  with  so  little  hesitation. 

Finally,  I  was  asked  If  I  had  myself  read  all  the 
books  which  I  quoted?  I  answered,  No.  To  do  this, 
I  had  need  have  passed  the  greater  part  of  my  life  in 
reading  very  bad  books.  But  I  have  twice  read  Es- 
cobar* throughout :  and  for  the  others,  I  got  several 
of  my  friends  to  read  them  ;  but  I  have  never  used  a 
single  passage  without  having  read  it  myself  in  the 
book  quoted,  without  having  examined  the  case  in 
which  it  is  brought  forward,  and  without  having  read 


*  A  Spani'sh  Jesuit,  who  died  in  1669.  His  principles  of 
morality,  in  7  vols,  folio,  are  ridiculed  by  Pascal  in  the  Pro- 
vincial Letters.  A.  E. 


OS  RELIGION.  221 

the  preceding*  and  subsequent  context,  that  I  might 
not  run  the  risk  of  citing  that  lor  an  answer,  which 
was,  in  fact,  an  objection,  which  would  have  been  very 
unjust  and  bhimable. 

79  The  Arithmetical  machine  produces  results 
which  come  nearer  to  thought,  than  any  thing  that 
brutes  can  do ;  but  it  does  nothing  that  would,  in  the 
least,  lead  one  to  suppose  that  it  has  a  will  like  them. 

80.  Some  authors,  speaking  of  their  works,  say, 
"  My  book,  my  commentary,  my  history."  They 
betray  their  own  vulgarity,  who  have  just  got  a  house 
over  their  heads,  and  have  always,  "  My  house,"  at 
their  tongue's  end.  It  were  better  to  say,  '^  Our  book, 
our  histor3^,  our  commentai^y,  &,c.  for  generally  there 
is  more  in  it  belonging  to  others  than  to  themselves. 

81.  Christian  piety  annihilates  the  egotism  of  the 
heart ;  worldly  politeness  veils  and  represses  it. 

82.  If  my  heart  were  as  poor  as  my  understanding, 
I  should  be  happy,  for  I  am  thoroughly  persuaded, 
that  such  povert}^  is  a  means  of  salvation. 

83.  One  thing  I  have  observed,  that  let  a  man  be 
ever  so  poor,  he  has  always  something  to  leave  on  his 
death-bed. 

84.  I  love  poverty,  because  Jesus  Christ  loved  it. 
I  love  wealth,  because  it  gives  the  means  of  assisting 
the  wretched.  I  wish  to  deal  faithfully  w4th  all  men. 
I  render  no  evil  to  those  who  have  done  evil  to  me  ; 
but  I  wish  them  a  condition  similar  to  my  own,  in 
which  they  would  not  receive  from  the  greater  por- 
tion of  men  either  good  or  evil.  I  aim  to  be  always 
true,  and  just,  and  open  towards  all  men.  I  have 
much  tenderness  of  heart  towards  those  whom  God 
has  more  strictly  uniied  to  me.  Whether  I  am  in  se- 
cret, or  in  the  sight  of  men,  I  have  set  before  me  in 
all  my  actions,  the  God  who  will  judge  them,  and  to 
whom  I  have  consecrated  them.  These  are  my  feel- 
ings ;  and  1  bless  my  Redeemer  every  day  of  my  life, 
who  has  planted  them  in  me  ;  and  who,  from  a  man 
full  of  weakness,  misery,  lust,  pride,  and  ambition,  has 
formed  one  victorious  over  these  evils  by  the  power 

18* 


222  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

of  that  g-race.  to  which  I  owe  every  thing-,  seeing  that 
in  myself  there  i,s  nothing-  but  miserj^  and  horror. 

85.  Disease  is  the  natural  state  of  Christians ;  for 
by  its  influence,  we  become  what  we  should  be  at  all 
times;  we  endure  evil;  W9  are  deprived  of  all  our 
goods,  and  of  all  the  pleasures  of  sense  ;  we  are  freed 
from  the  excitement  of  those  passions  which  annoy  us 
all  through  life  ;  we  live  without  ambition  and  without 
avarice,  in  the  constant  expectation  of  death.  And  is 
it  not  thus,  that  Christians  should  spend  their  days  ? 
And  is  it  not  real  happiness  to  find  ourse^es  placed  by 
necessity  in  that  state  in  which  we  ought  to,  be,  and 
that  we  have  nothing  to  do,  but  humbly  and  peacea- 
bly submit  to  our  lot.  With  this  view,  I  ask  for  noth- 
ing else  but  to  pray  God,  that  he  would  bestow  this 
grace  upon  me. 

86.  It  is  strange  that  men  have  wished  to  dive  into 
the  principles  of  things,  and  to  attain  to  universal 
knowledge  ;  for  surely  it  were  impossible  to  cherish 
such  a  purpose,  without  a  capacity,  or  the  presump- 
tion of  a   capacity,  as  boundless  as  nature  itself. 

87.  Nature  has  many  perfections  to  shew  that  it  is 
an  image  of  the  Deity.  It  has  defects,  to  shew  that 
it  is  but  an  image. 

88.  Men  are  so  completely  fools  by  necessity, 
that  he  is  but  a  fool  in  a  higher  strain  of  folly,  who 
docs  not  confess  his  foolishness. 

89.  Do  away  the  doctrine  of  probability,  and  you 
please  tKe  world  no  longer.  Give  them  the  doctrine 
of  probability,  and  you  cannot  but  please  them. 

•  90.  If  that  which  is  contingent  were  made  certain, 
the  zeal  of  the  saints,  for  the  practice  of  good  works, 
would  be  useless. 

91.  It  must  be  grace  indeed  that  makes  a  man  a  saint. 
And  who,  even  in  his  most  doubtful  mood,  does  not 
know  what  constitutes  a  saint,  and  what  a  natural  man. 

92.  The  smallest  motion  is  of  importance  in  na-cure. 
The  whole  substance  of  the  sea  moves  when  we  throw 
in  a  pebble.  So  in  the  life  of  grace,  the  most  trilling 
action  has  a  bearing  in  its  consequences  upon  the  whole. 
Every  thing  then  is  important. 


ON  RELIGION.  223 

97.  Naturally  men  hate  each  other.  Much  use  has 
been  made  of  human  corruption,  to  make  it  subserve 
the  public  good.  But  then,  all  this  is  but  deception  ; 
a  false  semblance  of  charity  ;  really  it  is  only  hatred  af- 
ter all.  This  vile  resource  of  human  nature,  this^g- 
mentuni  malum  is  only  covered.     It  is  not  removed. 

98.  They,  who  say  that  man  is  too  insignilicant  to  be 
admitted  to  communion  with  God,  had  need  be  more 
than  ordinaril}^  great  to  know  it  assuredly. 

99.  It  is  unworthy  of  God  to  join  himself  to  man  in 
his  miserable  degradation  ;  but  it  is  not  so  to  bring  him 
forth  from  that  misery. 

100.  Who  ever  heard  such  absurdities?  sinners  pu- 
rified without  penitence;  just  men  made  perfect  with- 
out the  grace  of  Christ ;  God  without  a  controlling 
power  over  the  human  will ;  predestination  without 
mj'^stery  ;  and  a  Redeemer  without  the  certainty  of  sal- 
vation. 

103.  That  Christianity  is  not  the  only  religion,  is 
no  real  objection  to  its  being  true.  On  the  contrary, 
this  is  one  of  the  means  of  proof  that  it  is  true. 

104.  In  a  state  established  as  a  republic,  like  Venice, 
it  were  a  great  sin  to  try  to  force  a  king  upon  them, 
and  to  rob  the  people  of  that  liberty  which  God  had 
given  them.  But  in  a  state  where  monarchical  power 
has  been  admitted,  we  cannot  violate  the  respect  due 
to  the  king,  without  a  degree  of  sacrilege;  for  as  the 
power  that  God  has  conferred  on  him,  is  not  only  a  rep- 
resentation, but  a 'participation  of  the  power  of  God, 
we  may  not  oppose  it  without  resisting  manifestly  the 
ordinance  of  God.  Moreover,  as  civil  war,  which  is 
the  consequence  of  such  resistance,  is  one  of  the  great- 
est evils  that  we  can  commit  in  violation  of  the  love  of 
our  neighbour,  we  can  never  sufficiently  magnify  the 
greatness  of  the^crime.  The  primitive  Christians  did 
Dot  teach  us  revolt,  but  patience,  when  kings  tram- 
pled upon  their  rights. 

I  am  as  far  removed  from  the  probability  of  this  sin, 
as  from  assassination  and  robbery  on  the  highway. 
There  is  nothing  more  contrary  to  my  natural  disposi- 
tion, and  to  which  I  am  less  tempted. 


224  MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS 

105.  Eloquence  is  the  art  of  saying  things  in  such  a 
manner,  that  in  the  first  place^  those  to  whom  we  speak, 
may  hear  them  without  pain,  and  with  pleasure ;  and, 
in  the  second^  that  they  may  feel  interested  in  them, 
and  he  led  by  their  own  self-love,  to  a  more  willing  re- 
flection on  them.  It  consists  in  the  endeavour  to  es- 
tablish a  correspondence  between  the  understanding 
and  heart  of  those  to  whom  we  speak,  on 'the  one  hand, 
and  the  thoughts  and  expressions  of  which,  we  make 
use  on  the  other;  an  idea  which  supposes,  at  the  out- 
set, that  we  have  well  studied  the  human  heart,  to 
know  all  its  recesses,  and  rightl}'  to  arrange  the  propor- 
tions of  a  discourse,  calculated  to  meet  it.  We  ought  to 
put  ourselves  in  the  place  of  those  to  whom  we  speak, 
and  try  upon  our  own  heart,  the  turn  of  thought  which 
we  give  to  a  discourse,  and  thus  ascertain  if  the  one  is 
adapted  to  the  other,  and  if  we  can  in  this  way  acquire 
the  conviction,  that  the  hearer  will  be  compelled  to 
surrender  to  it.  Our  strength  should  be,  in  being  sim- 
ple and  natural,  neither  intlating  that  which  is  little, 
nor  lowering  that  which  is  really  grand.  It  is  not 
enough  that  the  statement  be  beautiful.  It  should  suit 
the  subject,  having  nothing  exuberant,  nothing  defec- 
tive. 

Eloquence  is  a  pictural  representation  of  thought  ; 
and  hence,  those  who,  al\er  having  painted  it,  make 
additions  to  it,  give  us  a  fancy  picture,  but  not  a  por- 
trait.* 

106.  The  Holy  Scripture  is  not  a  science  of  the 
understanding,  but  of  the  heart.  It  is  intelligible  only 
to  those  who  have  an  honest  and  good  heart.  The 
veil  that  is  upon  the  Scriptures,  in  the  case  of  the 
Jews,  is  there  also  in  the  case  of  Christians.  Charity- 
is  not  only  the  end  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but  the 
entrance  to  them. 

107.  If  we  are  to  do  nothing,  but  where    we   have 


*  These  views  are  worthy  of  the    serious  consideration    of 
every  public  speaker.     A.  E. 


ON  RP.ELIGION.  225 

the  advantag'e  of  certaint}',  then  we  should  do  nothing 
in  religion  ;  for  religion  is  not  a  matter  of  certainty. 
But  how  many  things. Ave  do  uncertainly,  as  sea-voya- 
ges, battles,  ^c.  1  say  then,  that  we  should  do  nothing 
at  all,  for  nothing  is  certain.  There  is  more  of  cer- 
tainty in  religion,  than  in  the  hope  that  we  shall  see 
the  morrow  ;  for  it  is  not  certain  thaf  we  shall  see  the 
morrow.  But  it  is  possible,  that  we  may  not  isee  to- 
morrow.* And  this  cannot  be  affirmed  of  religion. — 
It  is  not  certain  that  religion  is  ;  but  who  will  dare  to 
say,  that  it  is  certainly  possible  that  it  is  not.  Now 
when  we  labor  for  to-morrow,  and  upon  an  uncertain- 
ty, reason  justifies  us.j 

108.  The  inventions  of  men  progressively  improve 
from  age  to  age.  The  goodness  and  the  wickedness 
of  men  in  general  remains  the  same. 

109.  A  man  must  acquire  a  habit  of  more  philosoph- 
ic speculation  and  thought  on  what  he  sees,  and  form 
his  judgment  of  things  by  that,  while  he  speaks  gen- 
erally to  others  in  more  popular  language. 

111.  i  Casual  circumstances  give  rise  to  thoughts, 
and  take  them  away  again ;  there  is  no-  art  of  creating 
or  preserving  them. 

112.  You  think  that  the  church  should  not  judge  of 
the  inward  man,  because  this  belongs  only  to  God ; 
nor  of  the  outward  man,  because  God  judges  of  the 
heart;  and  thus,  destroying  all  power  of  discriminat- 
ing'human  character,  you  retain  within  the  church. 
th,e  most  dissolute  of  men,  and  men  who  so  manifestly 
disgrace  it,  that  even  the  synagogues  of  the  Jews,  and 
the  sects  of  philosophers  would  have  rejected  them  as 
worthless,  and  consigned  them  to  abhorrence. 


*^  That  is,  we  know  of  possible  events  by  which  this  might 
be  the  case'. 

t  The  term  certainty^  as  often  used  by  Pascal,  seems  to  have 
reference  to  mathematical  demonstration.     A.  E. 

X  The  thought  110,  is  not  found  in  the  MSS.  but  only  in  the 
edition  of  Condorcet,  an  authority  certainly  not  to  be  followed. 


226 

113.  Whoever  will,  may  now  be  made  a  priest,  as 
in  the  days  of  Jeroboam. 

114.  The  multitude  which  is  not  broug-ht  to  act  as 
unit}^,  is  confusion.  That  unity  which  has  not  its  ori- 
gin in  the  multitude,  is  tyrann}^ 

115.  Men  consult  only  the  ear,  for  want  of  the  heart. 

116.  We  should  be  able  to  say  in  eyery  dialogue  or 
discourse,  to  those  who  are  offended  at  it,  "Of  what 
can  you  complain  ?" 

117.  Children  are  alarmed  at  the  flice  which  they 
have  themselves  disguised  ;  but  how  is  it,  that  he  who 
is  so  weak,  as  an  infant,  is  so  bold  in  maturer  years? 
Alas,  his  weakness  has  only  changed  its  subject ! 

118.  It  is  alike  incomprehensible  that  God  is,  and 
that  he  is  not;  that  the  soul  is  in  the  hody^  and  that 
we  have  no  soul ;  that  the  world  is,  or  is  not  created; 
that  there  is,  or  is  not  such  a  thing  as  original  sin. 

119.  The  statements  of  Atheists  ought  to  be  per- 
fectly clear  of  doubt.  Now  it  is  not  perfectly  clear, 
that  the  soul  is  material. 

120.  Unbelievers  the  most  credulous!  They  be- 
lieve the  miracles  of  Vespasian,  that  they  riiay  not  be- 
lieve the  miracles  of  Moses. 

On  the  Philosophy  of  Descartes.'^ 
We  may  say  generally,  the  world  is  made  by  figure 
and  motion,  for  that  is  true ;  to  say  what  figure  and 
motion,  and  to  specify  the  composition  of  the  macl^ine, 
is  perfectly  ridiculous  ;  for  it  is  useless,  questionable, 
and  laborious.  But,  if  it  be  all  true,  the  whole  of  the 
philosophy  is  not  worth  an  hour's  thought. 


*  A  French  philosopher,  ^vho  died  in  1G50.  His  "  doctrine 
of  vortices,"  by  which  he  explainedmany  of  the  phenomena  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  avhs  completely  exploded  by  Newton. 

A.  E. 


THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH.  227 


CHAPTER  XXir. 

THOUGHTS  OX  DEATH,    EXTRACTED     FROM    A    LETTER    OF     M. 
PASCAL,  OS  THE  OCCASIo:V  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  FATHER. 

When  we  are  in  affliction,  owing  to  the  death  of 
some  friend  whom  we  loved,  or  some  other  misfortune 
that  has  happened  to  us,  we  ought  not  to  seek  for 
consolation  in  ourselves,  nor  in  our  fellow-creatures, 
nor  in  any  created  thing  ;  we  should  seek  it  in  God 
only.  And  the  reason  is,  that  creatures  are  not  the 
primary  cause  of  those  occurrences  which  we  call 
evils.  But  that  the  providence  of  God  being  the  true 
and  sole  cause  of  them,  the  arbiter  and  the  sovereign, 
we  ought,  undoubtedly,  to  have  recourse  directly  to 
their  source,  and  ascend  even  to  their  origin,  to  obtain 
satisfactory  alleviation.  For,  if  we  follow  this  pre- 
cept, and  consider  this  afflicting  bereavement,  not  as 
the  result  of  chance,  nor  as  a  fatal  necessity  of  our  na- 
ture, nor  as  the  sport  of  those  elements  and  atoms  of 
which  man  is  formed  (for  God  has  not  abandoned  his 
elect  to  the  risk  of  caprice  or  chance)  but  as  the  in- 
dispensable, inevitable,  just,  and  holy  result  of  a  decree 
of  the  providence  of  God,  to  be  executed  in  the  ful- 
ness of  time  ;  and,  in  fact,  that  all  which  happens  has 
been  eternally  present  and  pre-ordained  in  God  ;  if,  I 
say,  b}"  the  teachings  of  grace  we  consider  this  casu- 
alty, not  in  itself,  and  independently  of  God,  but  view- 
ed independently  of  self,  and  as  in  the  will  of  God,  and 
in  the  justice  of  his  decree,  and  the  order  of  his  Prov- 
idence ;  which  is,  in  fact,  the  true  cause,  without 
which  it  could  not  have  happened,  by  which  alone  it 
has  happened,  and  happened  in  the  precise  manner  in 
which  it  has;  we  should. adore  in  humble  silence  the 
inaccessible  elevation  of  His  secrecy  ;  we  should  vene- 
rate the  holiness  of  His  decrees;  we  should  bless  the 
course  of  His  providence  ;    and,   uniting    our  will    to 


228  ,  THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH. 

the  very  will  of  God,  we  should  desire  with  Him,  in 
Hijn,  anifor  Him,  those  very  things  which  He  has 
wished  in  us,  and  for  us,  from  all  eternity. 

2.  There  is  no  consolation  but  in  truth.  Unques- 
tionably there  is  nothing- in  Socrates  or  Seneca  which 
can  soothe  or  comfort  us  on  these  occasions.  They 
were  under  the  error,  which,  in  blinding  the  tirst 
man,  blinded  all  the  rest.  They  have  all  conceived 
death  to  be  natural  to  man  ;  and  all  the  discourses  that 
they  have  founded  upon  this  false  principle,  are  so 
vain  and  so  wanting  in  solidity,  that  they  have  only 
served  to  shew,  by  their  utter  uselessness,  how  very 
feeble  man  is,  since  the  loftiest  productions  of  the 
greatest  minds  are  so  mean  and  puerile. 

It  is  not  so  with  Jesus  Christ;  it  is  not  so  with  the 
canonical  Scriptures.  The  truth  is  set  forth  there  : 
and  consolation  is  associated  with  it,  as  infallibly  as 
that  truth  itself  is  infallibly  separated  from  error.  Let 
us  regard  death  then,  by  the  light  of  that  truth  which 
the  Holy  Spirit  teaches.  We  have  there  a  most  ad- 
vantageous means  ofknowing  that  really  and  truly  death 
is  the  penalty  of  sin,  appointed  to  man  as  the  desert  of 
crime,  and  necessary  to  man  for  his  escape  from  cor- 
ruption :  that  it  is  the  only  means  of  delivering  the 
soul  from  the  motions  of  sin  in  the  members,  from 
which  the  saints  are  never  entirely  free,  while  they 
live  in  this  world.  We  know  that  life,  and  the  life  of 
Christians  especially,  is  a  continued  sacrifice,  which 
can  only  be  terminated  by  death.  We  know  that  Jesus 
Christ,  when  became  into  this  world, considered  him- 
self, and  offered  himself  to  God  as  a  sacrifice,  and  as  a 
real  victim;  that  his  birth,  his  life,  his  death,  resur- 
rection and  ascension,  and  his  sitting  at  the  right  hand 
of  the  Father,  are  but  one  and  the  same  sacrifice.  We 
know  that  what  took  place  in  Jesus  Christ,  must  occur 
also  in  all  his  members. 

Let  us  consider  life  then  as  a  sacrifice,  and  that  the 
accidents  of  life  make  no  impression  on  the  Christian 
mind,  but  as  they  interrupt  or  carry  on  this  sacrifice. 
Let  us  call  nothinsr  evil  but  that  which  constitutes  the 


THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH.  229 

victim  due  to  God  a  victim  offered  to  the  devil ;  but 
let  U3  call  that  really  good,  which  renders  the  victim 
due  in  Adam  to  the  devil,  a  victim  sacrificed  to  God  ; 
and  by  this  rule,  let  us  examine  death. 

For  this  purpose  we  must  have  recourse  to  the  per- 
son of  J.esus  Christ:  for  as  God  regards  men  onlj'  in 
the  person  of  the  mediator,  Jesus  Christ,  men  also 
should  only  regard  either  others,  or  themselves,  me- 
diately through  him. 

Tfwe  do  not  avail  ourselves  of  this  mediation,  we 
shall  find  in  ourselves  nothing  hut  real  miseries  or 
abominable  evils  .  But  if  we  learn  to  look  at  every 
thing  through  Jesus  Christ,  we  shall  always  obtain 
comfort,  satisfaction,  and  instruction. 

Let  us  look  at  death  then  through  Christ,  and  not 
without  him.  Without  Christ  it  is  horrible,  detesta- 
ble ;  it  is  the  abhorence  of  human  nature.  In  Jesus 
Christ  it  is  very  different ;  it  is  lovely,  holy,  and  the  joy 
of  the  faithful.  All  trial  is  sweet  in  Jesus  Christ,  even 
death.  He  suffered  and  died  to  sanctify  death  and 
suffering;  and  as'God  and  man,  he  has  been  all  that  is 
great  and  noble,  and  all  that  is  abject,  in  order  to  con- 
secrate in  himself  ail  things,  except  sin,  and  to  the 
ipodel  of  all  conditions  of  life. 

In  order  to  know  what  death  is,  and  what  it  is  in  Jesus 
Christ,  we  should  ascertain  what  place  it  holds  in  his 
one  eternal  sacrifice  ;  a"tid  with  a  view  to  this,  observe 
that  the  principal  part  of  a  sacrifice  is  the  death  of  the 
victim.  The  offering  and  the  consecration  which  pre- 
cede it,  are  preliminary,  steps,  but  the  actual  sacrifice  is 
death,  in  which  the  creature,  by  the  surrender  of  its 
life,  renders  to  God  all  the  homage  of  which  it  is  capa- 
ble, making  itself  nothing  before  the  eyes  of  His  maj- 
esty, and  adoring  that  Sovereign  Being  which  exists  es- 
sentially and  alone.  It  is  true  that  there  is  yet  another 
step  after  the  death  of  the  victim,  which  is  God's  ac- 
ceptance of  the  sacrifice,  and  which  is  referred  to  in 
the  Scripture,  as  Gen.  viii.  21.  And  God  smeJled  a 
sweet  savour.  This  certainly  crowns  the  offering; 
but    this   is   more   an   act   of  God  towards   creature, 

19 


230  THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH. 

than  of  the  creature  to  God;  and  does  not  therefore 
alter  the  fact  that  the  last  act  of  the  creature  is  his 
death. 

All  this  has  heen  accomplished  in    Jesus    Christ. — 
When  he  came  into  the  world  he    offered    himself. — 
SoHeh.  ix.  14.      Through  the  eternal  Spirit,    he    offered 
himself  to  God.      When  he  cometh  into  the  'world,  he  saith 
Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  woiddest  not,  but  a  body    thou 
hast  prepared  me.      Then,  said  I,  Lo  I  come,   in   the  vol- 
time  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,    to    do    thy    will*   O 
God;  yea,  thy  law  is  within    my   heart.      Heb.    x.    5. — 
Psalm  xl.  7,  8.     Here  is  his  oblation  ;    his    sanctifica- 
tion  followed  immediately  upon  his  obligation.      This 
sacrifice  continued  through   his    whole    life,  and  was 
completed  by  his  death.     So  Luke  xxiv.  26.   Ought  not 
Christ  to  have  suffered  these  things,  and   entered  into    his 
glory.     And  again,  Heb.  v.     In  the   days   of   his  flesh, 
when  he  had  offered  up  prayers  and    supplications,    with 
strong  crying  and  tears  unto  him  that    was    able    to   save 
him  from  death,  he  was  heard  in    that  he  feared  ;    and 
though  he  were  a  son,  yet  learned  he  obedience  by  the  things 
which  he  suffered.    'And  God  raised  him  I'rom  the  dead, 
and  caused  his  glory  to  rest  upon  him,   (an  event  for- 
merly prefigured  by  the  fire  from  heaven    which    feU 
upon  the  victims  to  burn  and  comsume    the   body,)   to 
quicken  him  to  the  life  of  glory.     This  is  what   Jesus 
Christ  has  obtained,  and  which  was  accomplished  at  his 
resurrection. 

This  sacrifice,  therefore,  having  been  perfected  by 
the  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  consummated  even  in  his 
body  by  the  resurrection,  in  which  the  likeness  of  sin- 
ful flesh  has  been  swallowed  up  in  glory,  Jesus  Christ 
had  done  all  on  his  part ;  and  that,  as  the  smoke  arose 
and  carried  the  odour  to  the  throne  of  God,  so  Jesus 
Christ  should  be  in  this  state  of  complete  immofation, 
offered, carried  up,  and  received  at  the  throne  of  God 
itself;  and  this  was  accomplished  in  his  ascension,  in 
which,  by  his  own  strength,  and  by  the  strength  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  supplied  to  him  continually,  he  ascended 
up  on  high,     lie  was  borne  up  as  the  smoke    of  those 


THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH.  231 

victims  who  were  typical  of  Jesus  Christ,  was  carried 
up  buoyant  on  the  air,  which  is  a  type  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
And  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  state  expressly,  that  he 
was  received  into  heaven,  to  assure  us  that  this  holy 
sacrifice,  offered  on  the  earth,  was  accepted  and  re- 
ceived into  the  bosom  of  God. 

Such  is  the  fact  with  regard  to  our  Almighty  Lord. 
Now,  let  us  look  at  ourselves.  When  we  enter  into 
the  church,  which  is  the  company  of  all  faithful  peo- 
ple, or  to  speak  more  particularly,  of  God's  elect,  into 
which  Jesus  Christ,  by  a  privilege  peculiar  to  the  only 
Son  of  God,  entered  at  the  moment  of  his  incarnation, 
we  are  offered  and  sanctified.  This  sacrifice  continues 
through  lile,  and  is  perfected  in  death,  in  which  the 
soul,  quitting  entirely  the  vices  and  the  corrupt  affec- 
tions of  earth,  whose  contagion  still,  throughout  life, 
ministered  some  infection,  perfects  her  own  immola- 
tion, and  is  received  into  the  bosom  of  God. 

Let  us  not  then  sorrow  for  the  death  of  the  faithful, 
as  the  heathen  who  have  no  hope.  We  have  not  lost 
them  at  their  death.  We  lost/them  so  to  speak,  from 
that  moment  when  they  were  really  given  to  God.  From 
that  time  they  were  the  Lord's.  Their  life  was  devo- 
ted to  him ;  their  actions  to  mankind  regarded  only 
the  glory  of  God.  Then  in  their  death  they  have  be- 
come entirely  separated  from  sin,  and  in  that  moment 
they  have  been  received  of  God,  and  their  sacrifice 
received  its  completion  and  its  crown. 

They  have  performed  their  vows  ;  they  have  done 
the  work  which  God  gave  them  to  do;,  they  have  ac- 
complished the  work  for  which  alone  "they  were  crea- 
ted. The  will  of  God  has  been  done  in  them,  and 
their  will  has  been  absorbed  in  the  will  of  God.  That 
then  which  God  has  joined  together,  let  not  our  will 
put  asunder;  let  us  destroy  or  subdue,  by  a  right  com- 
prehension of  the  truth,  that  sentiment  of  our  corrup- 
ted and  fallen  nature  which  presents  to  us  only  false 
impressions,  and  which  disturbs  by  its  delusions,  the 
holy  feelings  that  evangelical  tTuth  inspires. 

Let  us  not  then  regard  death  as  heathens,  but  as 
Christians,  with  hope,  as  St.  Paul  ordains  ;    for  this  is 


232  THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH. 

the  special  privilege  of  believers.  Think  not  of  a 
corpse  as  a  putrid  carcase,  as  lying  nature  represents 
it  to  us ;  but  count  it,  according  to  the  apprehensions 
of  faith,  as  the  sacred  and  eternal  temple  of  the  Spir- 
it of  God. 

For  we  know  that  the  bodies  of  the  saints  are  pre- 
served by  the  Hol}'^  Spirit  unto  the  resurrection, 
which  will  be  accomplished  by  that  Spirit  dwelling  in 
them  for  that  purpose.  It  Avas  on  this  account  that 
some  reverenced  relics  of  the  dead;  and  for  this  same 
reason,  formerly,  the  eucharist  was  placed  in  the 
mouth  of  the  dead.  But  the  church  has  given  up  this 
custom,  because  the  eucharist  being  the  bread  of  life, 
and  of  the  living,  ought  not  to  be  administered  to  the 
dead. 

Do  not  consider  the  faithful,  who  have  died  in  the 
grace  of  God,  as  having  ceaeed  to  live,  though  na- 
ture suggests  this ;  but  as  now  beginning  to  live,  for 
so  the  truth  assures  us.  Do  not  regard  Iheir  souls  as 
perished  and  annihilated,  but  as  quickened  and  united 
to  the  sovereign  source  of  life.  And  in  this  way,  cor- 
rect by  the  belief  of  these  truths,  those  erroneous 
opinions  which  are  so  impressed  upon  our  minds,  and 
and  those  feelings  of  dread  which  are  so  natural  to  us. 
3.  God  created  man  with  two  principles  of  love  ; 
the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  self;  but  governed 
by  this  law,  that  the  love  of  God  should  be  infinite, 
having  only  the  infinite  God  for  its  end  ;  the  love  of 
self  fit  i  e  and  subordinaite  to  God. 

Man,  in  that  state,  not  only  loved  himself  without 
sinning ;  but  not  to  have  loved  himself,  Would  have 
been  criminal. 

But  since  sin  entered  into  the  world,  man  has  lost 
the  former  principle  of  love  ;  and  this  love  of  self, 
having  dwelt  alone  in  this  noble  mind,  made  original- 
ly capable  of  an  infinite  love,  has  spread  forth  inor- 
dinately in  the  void  which  the  love  of  God  left  deso- 
late ;  and  bence  man  now  loves  himself,  and  all  other 
things  for  his  own  sake,  i.  e.  in  an  infinite  degree. 
There  is  the  origin  of  self-love.     It  was  natural  (o 


THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH  233 

Adam  ;  and  in  his  state  of  innocence  it  was  quite  jus- 
tifiable ;  but  in  consequence  of  sin,  it  has  become 
criminal  and  unbounded*  We  see  then  both  the  source 
of  this  love,  and  the  cause  of  its  enormity  and  guilt. 
It  is  the  same  with  the  desire  of  dominion,  with  inac- 
tivity, and  all  other  vices  ;  and  this  idea  may  be  easily 
transferred  to  the  dread  which  we  have  of  death. 
This  dread  was  natural  and  proper  in  Adam,  when  in- 
nocent ;  because  as  his  life  was  approved  of  God,  it 
ought  to  be  so  by  man  ;  and  death  would  have  been 
dreadful,  as  terminating  a  life  conformed  to  the  will 
of  God.  But  since  man  has  sinned,  his  life  has  be- 
come corrupt,  his  body  and  soul  mutually  hostile  to 
each  other,  and  both  hostile  to  God. 

But  while  this  change  has  poisoned  a  life  once  so 
holy,  the  love  of  life  has  yet  remained  ;  and  that 
dread  of  death,  which  has  remained  the  same  also, 
and  which  was  justifiable  in  Adam,  is  not  justifiable  in 
us. 

We  see,  then,  the  origin  of  the  dread  of  death,  and 
the  cause  of  its  guilt.  Let  the  illumination  of  faith 
correct  the  error  of  nature. 

The  dread  of  death  is  natural  to  man ;  but  it  was  in 
his  state  of  innocence,  because  death  could  not  enter 
paradise,  without  finishing  a  life  perfectly  pure.  It 
was  right,  then  to  hate  it,  when  it  went  to  separate  a 
holy  soul  from  a  holy  body  :  but  then  it  is  right  to 
love  it,  when  it  separates  a  holy  soul  from  an  impure 
body.  It  was  right  to  shrink  from  it  when  it  would 
have  broken  up  the  peace  between  the  soul  and  the 
body  ;  b\^l  not  when  it  terminates  an  otherwise  irrec- 
oncileable  ^dissension.  In  fact,  when  it  would  have 
afflicted  an  innocent  body ;  when  it  would  have  de- 
prived the  body  of  the  power  of  knowing  God  ;  when 
it  would  have  separated  from  the  soul  a  body  submis- 
sive to  its  will,  and  co-operating  with  it ;  when  it 
would  have  terminated  all  the  blessings  of  which  man 
knew  himself  capable,  then  it  was  right  to  abhor  it. 
But,  when  it  terminates  an  impure  life  ;  when  it  takes 
away  from  the  body  the  liberty  of  sinning:  when  it 
19* 


234  THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH. 

rescues  tbe  soul  from  the  might  of  a  rebel,  who  coun- 
teracts all  his  efforts  for  salvation,  it  is  very  improper 
to  retain  towards  it  the  same  opinions. 

We  must  not  then  give  up  this  love  of  life  which 
was  given  us  by  nature  ;  for  we  have  received  it  from 
God.  But  then,  let  it  be  a  love  for  that  same  life 
which  God  gave,  and  not  ibr  a  life  directly  contrary  to 
it.  And  whilst  we  approve  the  love  which  Adam  felt 
to  the  life  of  innocence,  and  which  Jesus  Christ  also 
had  for  his  life,  let  it  be  one  business  to  hate  a  life, 
the  reverse  of  that  which  Jesus  Christ  loved,  and  to 
attain  to  that  death  which  Jesus  Christ  experienced, 
and  which  happens  to  a  body  approved  of  God  ;'  but 
let  us  not  dread  a  death,  which,  as  it  operates  to  pun- 
ish a  guilt}^  body,  and  to  cleanse  a  vitiated  body,  ought 
to  inspire  in  us  very  different  feelings,  if  we  have  but 
the  principles,  in  however  small  a  degree,  of  faith, 
hope,  and  charity. 

It  is  one  of  the  great  principles  of  Christianity, 
that  all  which  happened  to  Jesus  Christ,  should  take 
place  in  the  soul  and  body  of  each  Christian  :  that  as 
Jesus  Christ  has  suffered  during  his  mortal  life,  has 
died  to  this  mortal  life,  has  risen  to  a  new  life,  has  as- 
cended to  heaven,  where  he  has  sat  down  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Father ;  so  ought  both  the  body  and  soul 
to  suffer,  die,  rise  again,  and  ascend  to  heaven. 

All  these  things  are  accomplished  during  this  life  in 
the  soul,  but  not  in  the  body.  The  soul  suffers  and 
dies  to  sin  ;  the  soul  is  raised  to  a  new  life  ;  and  then, 
at  last,  the  soul  quits  the  earth,  and  ascends  to  heaven 
in  the  holy  paths  of  a  heavenly  life  ;  as  St.  Paul  says, 
Our  conversation  is  in  heaven. 

But  none  of  these  things  take  place  in  the  body  dur- 
ing this  present  life  ;  they  will  occur  hereafter.  For, 
in  death,  the  body  dies  to  its  mortal  life  :  at  the  judg- 
ment, it  shall  rise  to  new  life  ;  and  after  the  judgment, 
it  shall  ascend  to  heaven,  and  dwell  there  for  ever.  So 
that  the  same  train  of  events  happens  to  the  body  as  to 
the  soul,  only  at  different  times  :  and  these  changes  in 
the  body  do  not  take  place  till  those  of  the  soul  are 


THOUGHTS  ON  DEATH.  235 

complete — that  is,  after  death.  So  that  death  is  the  cor- 
onation of  the  beatification  of  the  soul,  and  the  dawn  of 
blessedness  to  the  body  also. 

These  are  the  wonderful  ways  of  Divine  wisdom  re- 
specting- the  salvation  of  souls!  And  St.-  Augustine 
teaches  us  here,  that  God  has  adopted  this  arrange- 
ment to  prevent  a  serious  evil ;  for  if  the  period  of  the 
act  of  the  spiritual  regeneration  of  the  soul  had  been 
made  the  period  of  the  death  and  resurrection  of  the 
body  also,  men  would  only  have  submitted  to  the  obe- 
dience of  the  gospel  from  the  love  of  life  ;  but  by  the 
present  arrangement,  the  power  of  faith  is  much  more 
manifested,  whilst  the  way  to  immortality  is  traced 
through  the  shades  of  death. 

4.  It  were  not  right  that  we  should  not  feel  and 
mourn  over  the  afflictions  and  misfortunes  of  life,  like 
angels  who  have  not  the  passions  of  our  nature.  It 
were  not  right  either  that  we  should  sorrow  without 
consolation  like  the  heathens,  who  know  not  the  hope 
of  grace.  But  it  is  right  that  we  should  be  afflicted  and 
Comforted  as  Christians,  and  that  the  consolations  of 
grace  should  rise  superior  to  the  feelings  of  nature; 
so  that  grace  should  not  only  be  in  ns,  but  victorious  in 
us  ;  so  that,  in  hallowing  our  heavenly  Father's  name, 
his  will  should  become  ours  ;  so  that  his  grace  should 
reign  over  our  imperfect  nature,  and  that  our  afflictions 
should  be,  as  it  were,  the  matter  of  a  sacrifice  which 
grace  completes,  and  consumes  to  the  glory  of  God : 
and  that  these  individual  sacrifices  should  honor  and 
anticipate  that  universal  sacrifice,  in  which  our  whole 
nature  shall  be  perfected  by  the  power  of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  hence  we  derive  benefit  from  our  imperfections, 
since  they  serve  as  matter  for  such  sacrifices.*  For  it 
is  fhe  object  of  true  Christians  to  profit  by  their  own 
imperfections,  inasmuch  as  all  things  work  together  for 
good  to  the  elect.  * 

And  if  we  are  careful,  we  shall  find  great  profit  and 


2  Corinthians  xii.  9,10. 


236  THOUGHIS  ON  DEATH. 

edification  in  considering  this  matter  as  it  is  in  truth. 
For  since  it  is  true,  that  the  death  of  the  body  is  only  the 
image  of  the  death  of  the  soul,  and  that  we  build  on  this 
principle,  that  we  have  good  ground  to  hope  for  the 
salvation  of  those  who  sedeath  we  mourn  ;  then  it  is  cer- 
tain, that  if  we  cannot  check  the  tide  of  our  grief  and 
distress,  we  may  at  least  derive  from  it  this  bene- 
fit, that  if  the  death  of  the  body  is  so  dreadful,  as  to  give 
rise  to  such  emotions,  that  of  the  soul  would  have 
caused  us  agonies  fare  less  consolable.  God  has  sent 
the  former  to  those  for  whom  we  weep  ;  but  we  hope 
that  the  latter  he  has  averted.  See  then  in  the  magni- 
tude of  our  woes,  the  greatness  of  our  blessings  ;  and 
let  the  excess  of  our  grief,  be  the  measure  of  our  joy. 

5.  Man  is  evidently  too  weak  to  judge  accurately  of 
the  the  train  of  future  events.  Let  our  hope,  then,  be 
in  God  ;  and  do  not  let  us  weary  ourselves  by  rash  and 
unjustifiable  anticipations.  Let  us  commit  ourselves  to 
God  for  the  guidance  of  our  way  in  this  life,  and  let  not 
discontent  have  dominion  over  us. 

Saint  Augustine  teaches  us  that  there  is  in  each  man, 
a  Serpent,  an  Eve,  and  an  Adam.  Our  senses  and  nat- 
ural propensities  are  the  Serpent ;  the  excitable  desire 
is  the  Eve  ;  and  reason  is  the  Adam.  Our  nature 
tempts  us  perpetually  ;  criminal  desire  is  often  excited  ; 
but  sin  is  not  completed  till  reason  consents. 

Leave  then  this  Serpent  and  this  Eve  to  distress  us  if 
they  will ;  but  let  us  pray  to  God  so  to  strengthen  our 
Adam  by  his  grace,  that  he  may  abide  victorious, — 
that  Jesus  Christ  may  be  his  conqueror,  and  may  dwell 
in  us  for  ever.* 


•*  How  different    the  thoughts  of  Pascal  from  those  of  Cic- 
ero in  his  treatise  on  consolation  !     A.  E. 


A  PRAYER.  237 


CHAPTER  XXIir. 

PRAyER,rOR  THE  SA^-^CTIFIED  USE  OF  AFFLICTION  BY  DISEASE. 

O  Lord,  whose  Spirit  is  in  all  things  so  good  and  gra- 
cious, and  who  art  so  merciful,  that  not  only  the  pros- 
perities, but  even  the  humiliations  of  thy  elect  are  the 
results  of  thy  mercy;  graciously  enable  me  to  act  in 
the  state  to  which  thy  righteous  hand  has  reduced  me, 
not  as  a  heathen,  but  as  a  true  Christian  ;  that  I  may 
recognize  thee  as  my  Father  and  my  God,  in  whatever 
state  I  am  ;  since  the  change  in  my  condition,  makes 
no  change  in  thine  ;  since  thou  art  always  the  same, 
though  I  am  ever  variable ;  and  that  thou  art  no  less 
God,  when  thou  ministerest  affliction  or  punishment, 
-than  in  the  gifts  of  consolation  and  peace. 

2.  Thou  hast  given  me  health  to  serve  thee,  and  I 
iave  profanely  misused  it.  Suffer  me  not  so  to  receive; 
it  as  to  anger  thee  by  my  impatience.  I  have  abused 
my  health,  and  thou  hast  rightly  punished  me:  let  me. 
not  abuse  thy  correction  also.  And  since  the  corrup- 
tion of  my  nature  is  such,  that  it  renders  thy  favors 
hurtful  to  me,  let  thy  Almight}'-  grace,  O  God,  make 
these  thy  chastenings  profitable.  If  in  the  vigor  of 
health,  my  heart  was  filled  with  the  love  of  this  world, 
destroy  that  vigor  for  my  safety's  sake,  and  unfit  me 
for  the  enjoyment  of  this  world,  either  by  weakness  of 
body^  by  overcoming  love,  that  I  may  rejoice  in  thee, 
only. 

3,  O  God,  to  whom  at  the  end  of  my  life,  and  at  the 
end  of  this  world,  I  must  give  an  account  of  all  that  I 
have  done  ;  O  God  who  permiftest  this  world  to  exist, 
only  for  the  trial  of  thine  elect,  and  the  punishment 
of  the  wicked  ;  O  God,  who  leavest  hardened  sinners 
to  the  luxurious  but  criminal  enjoyments  of  this  world; 
O  God  who  causest  this  body  to  die,  and  at  the  hour  of 
death  separatest  our  souls  from   all  that  in  this  world 


238  A  PRAYER. 

they  have  loved  ;  O  God,  who  at  the  last  moment  of 
my  life,  breakest  me  off  from  all  those  things  to  which 
I  am  attached,  and  on  which  my  heart  has  been  tixed ; 
O  God,  who  wilt  consume  at  the  last  day,  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  and  all  creatures  that  are  therein,  to 
shew  to  all  the  world  that  nothing  subsists  but  thyself, 
and  that  nothing  but  thyself  is  worthy  of  love,  because 
thou  only  dost  endure ;  O  God,  who  wilt  destroy  all 
these  vain  idols,  and  all  these  fatal  objects  of  our  af- 
fections ;  I  praise  thee,  and  I  will  bless  thee,  O  my 
God,  all  the  days  of  my  life,  that  it  hath  pleased  thee 
to  anticipate  in  my  favor,  the  event  of  that  awful  day, 
by.  destroying  already,  as  it  respects  me,  all  these 
things,  through  the  weakness  to  which  thou  hast  re- 
duced me.  I  praise  thee,  O  my  God,  and  1  will  bless 
thee  all  the  days  of  my  life,  that  it  hath  pleased  thee 
to  reduce  me  to  a  state  of  inability  to  enjoy  the  sweets 
of  health,  and  the  pleasures  of  the  world ;  and  that 
thou  hast  in  a  manner  destroyed  for  my  profit,  those 
deceitful  idols  which  thou  wilt  hereafter  effectually 
destroy,  to  the  confusion  of  the  wicked  in  t  he  da  of 
thine  anger.  Grant,  Lord,  that  I  may  henceforth 
judge  myself  according  to  this  destruction,  which  thou 
hast  wrought  in  my  behalf;  that  thou  may  est  nat 
judge  me  after  that  entire  destruction  which  thou  wilt 
make  of  my  natural  life,  and  of  the  whole  world.  For 
seeing,  O  Lord,  that  at  the  instant  of  my  death,  I  shall 
find  myself  separated  from  this  world,  stripped  of  all 
things,  and  alone  in  thy  presence,  to  answer  to  thy  jus- 
tice for  all  the  thoughts  of  m.y  heart:  grant  that  1  may 
consider  myself  in  this  disease,  as  in  a  kind  of  death, 
separated  from  the  world,  stripped  of  all  the  objects  of 
my  affection,  and  alone  in  thy  presence,  to  implore 
from  thy  compassion  the  conversion  of  my  heart;  antl 
that  hence  I  may  have  great  comfort  from  the  thought 
that  thou  visitest  me  now  with  a  species  of  death,  as 
the  result  of  thy  mercy,  before  thou  appointest  me 
really  and  finally  to  death  as  the  result  of  thy  justice. 
Grant  then,  O  my  God,  that  since  thou  hast  anticipated 
my  death,  1   may  anticipate  the  rigor  of  thy  sentence  ; 


A  PRAYER.  239 

and    that    I   may  examine  myself  before  thy  judgment, 
to  tind  mercy  in  thy  presence. 

4.  .Grant,  O  my  God,  that  I  may  adore  in  silence, 
the  order  of  thy  providence,  in  the  guidance  of  my  life  ; 
that  thy  rod  may  comfort  me  ;  and  that,  if  1  have  liv- 
ed in  tiie  bitterness  of  my  own  sins  during  my  pros- 
perity, 1  may  now  taste  the  heavenly  sweetness  of  thy 
grace,  during  the  salutary  evils  with  which  thou  hast 
chastened  me.  But  I  confess,  O  my  God,  that  my 
heart  is  so  hardened,  and  so  full  of  the  thoughts, and 
cares,  and  anxieties,  and  attachments  of  the  world, 
that  neither  sickness,  nor  health,  neither  sermons,  nor 
books,  nor  thy  holy  Scriptures,  nor  thy  gospel,  nor  its 
holiest  mysteries,  nor  alms,  nor  fastings,  nor  mortifica- 
tions, nor  the  sacraments,  nor  thy  death,  nor  all  my 
efforts,  nor  those  of  the  whole  world  put  together,  can 
effect  any  thing  whatever,  even  to  begin  my  conver- 
sion, if  thou  dost  not  accompany  all  these  things  by 
the  extraordinary  assistance  of  thy  grace.     For    this, 

0  my  God,  I  address  myself  to  thee,  the  Almighty,  to 
ask  from  thee  a  gift,  that  all  thy  creatures  together 
could  not  bestow.  I  should  not  have  the  daring  to  di- 
rect my  cry  to  thee,  if  any  other  being  could  answer 
it.  But,  O  my  God,  since  the  conversion  of  my  heart, 
for  which  I  now  entreat,  is  a  work  which  surpasses  all 
the  efforts  of  nature;  I  can  apply  to  none  but  to  the 
Author  and  Almighty  master  of  nature,  and  of  my 
heart.     To  whom  should  I  cry,  Lord,  to  w^hom  should 

1  have  recourse,  but  to  thee  ?  Nothing  short  of  God 
can  fulfil  my  desire.  It  is  God  himself  that  I  need, 
and  that  I  seek ;  and  to  thee  only,  O  my  God,  do  I  ad- 
dress myself,  that  I  may  obtain  thee.  Open  my  heart. 
Lord.  Enter  this  rebel  place,  where  sin  has  reigned. 
Sin  holds  it  in  subjection.  Enter  as  into  the  house  of 
a  strong  man  ;  but  first  bind  the  strong  and  mighty  en- 
emy who  ruled  it,  and  then  Kake  pc^session  of  the 
treasures  which  are  there.  O  Lord,  regain  those  af- 
fections which  the  world  has  stolen.  Seize  this  trea- 
sure thyself,  or  rather  resume  it ;  for  it  belongs  to 
thee  as  a  tribute  that  I  owe  thee,  as  stamped  by  thine 


240 


A  PRAYER. 


own  image.  Thou  hast  imprinted  it  at  the  moment 
of  my  baptism,  which  was  my  second  birth';  but  it  is 
all  effaced.  The  image  of  the  world  is  graven  there 
so  deeply,  that  thine  is  scarcely  cognizable.  Thou 
only  couldst  create  my  soul ;  thou  only  canst  create 
it  anew.  Thou  only  couldst  impress  there  thine  im- 
age ;  thou  only  canst  reform  it,  and  refresh  the  linea- 
ments of  thy  obliterated  likeness;  that  is,  Jesus  Christ 
my  Saviour,  who  is  thine  image,  and  the  very  charac- 
ter of  thy  subsistence. 

6.  O  my  God,  how  happy  is  a  heart  that  can  love 
so  lovely  an  object,  with  an  honorable  and  beneficial 
love  !  1  feel  that  I  cannot  love  the  world  without 
displeasing  thee,  without  injuring  and  dishonoring  my- 
self; and  yet  the  world  is  still  the  object  of  my  de- 
light. O  my  God,  how  happy  is  the  soul  who  finds 
his  delight  in  thee,  since  he  may  abandon  himself  to 
thy  love,  not  only  without  scruple,  but  with  commen- 
dation. How  firm  and  lasting  is  his  happiness,  since 
his  hope  cannot  be  disappointed,  because  thou  wilt 
never  be  destroyed,  and  neither  life  nor  death  shall  sep- 
arate him  from  the  object  oi  his  desires ;  and  that 
the  same  moment  which  overwhelms  the  wicked  anj 
their  idols  in  one  common  ruin  shall  unite  the  just  with 
thee  in  one  common  glory  ;  and  that  as  the  one  shall 
perish  with  the  perishable  objects  to  which  they 
were  attached  ;  the  others,  shall  subsist  eternally  in 
the  eternal  and  self-existent  object  to  which  they  were 
so  strictly  united.  Blessed  are  the}'^,  who,  with  per- 
fect freedom,  and  an  invincible  bias  of  their  will,  love 
perfectly  and  freely,  that  which  they  are  incessantly 
constrained  to  love. 

6.  Perfect,  O  my  God,  the  holy  emotions  tliat  thou 
hast  given  me.  Be  their  end,  as  thou  art  their  begin- 
ning. Crown  thine  own  gifts;  for  thine  I  admit  them 
to  be.  Yes  O  qjjy  God,  far  from  assuming  that  my 
prayers  have  any  merit,  which  could  constrain  thee 
to  answer  them,  1  most  humbly  confess,  that  having 
given  to  the  creature  that  heart,  which  thou  didst  form 
for  thyself  only,  and  not  for  the  wortd,  nor  for  myself, 


A  PRAYER.  241 

1  could  look  for  no  blessing  but  to  thy  mercy  ;  since  I 
have  nothing  in  me  which  could  deserve  it;  and  that 
all  the  natural  emotions  of  my  heart,  inclining  towards 
the  creatures  or  myself,  can  only  anger  thee.  I  thank 
thee,  then,  O  my  God,  for  the  holy  emotions  that  thou 
hast  given  me,  and  even  for  that  disposition  which 
thou  hast  also  given  me  to  feel  thankful. 

7.  Touch  my  heart  with  repentance  for  its  faults  ; 
for  without  this  inward  grief,  the  outward  evils  with 
which  thou  hast  smitten  my  body,  will  be  but  a  new 
occasion  of  sin.  Make  me  to  know  that  the  diseases 
of  my  body  are  only  the  chastening,  and  the  emblem 
of  the  diseases  of  my  soul.  But  grant.  Lord,  also,  that 
they  may  be  the  remedy,  by  making  me  consider, 
amidst  these  pains  that  I  do  fee\^  the  evil  which  I  did 
not  previously  perceive  In  my  soul,  though  totally 
diseased  and  covered  with  putrifying  sores.  For,  O 
Lord,  the  greatest  of  its  evils  is  that  insensibilitj^,  and 
that  extreme  weakness  which  has  deprived  it  of  all 
consciousness  ofits  own  miseries.  Make  me  then  to 
feel  them  deeply ;  and  let  the  remainder  of  my  life  be 
a  continued  penitence,  to  bewail  the  sins  which  I  have 
committed. 

8.  O  Lord,  though  my  life  past  has  been  exempt 
from  gross  crimes,  from  the  temptations  to  which  thou 
hast  preserved  me  ;  it  has  been  very  hateful  in  thy 
sight,  from  my  continual  negligence,  my  misuse  of  thy 
holy  sacraments,  my  contempt  of  thy  w^ord,  and  of  thy 
holy  influence,  by  the  listlessness  and  uselessness  of 
my  actions  and  thoughts,  by  the  total  loss  of  that  time 
which  thou  hast  given  me  for  thy  worship,  to  seek,  in 
all  my  ways,  the  means  of  pleasing  thee,  and  to  i:epent 
of  the  sins  which  I  daily  commit ;  sins  from  which, 
even  the  most  righteous  are  not  exempt ;  so  that  even 
their  life  had  need  be  a  continual  penitence,  or  they 
run  the  risk  of  falling  from  their  stedfastness.  In  this 
wa}^,  O  my  God  I  have  ever  been  rebellious  against 
thee. 

9.  Yes,  Lord,  up  to  this  hour  I  have  been  ever 
deaf  to  thy  inspirations ;  I  have  despised  thy  oracles  ; 

20 


242  A  PRAYER. 

I  have  judged  contrary  to  what  thonjudgest;  I  have 
contradicted  those  holy  precepts  which  thon  didst 
bring  into  the  world,  from  the  bosom  of  thy  eternal 
Father,  and  by  which  thou  will  judge  the  world. — 
Thou  sayesi.  Blessed  arc  they  that  mourn,  but  woz  to  them 
that  are  comforted  ;  and  I  have  said,  Wretched  are  those 
that  mourn,  and  blessed  are  those  who  are  comtorted. 
I  have  said,  Happy  are  those  who  enjoy  a  fortunate 
lot,  a  splendid  reputation,  and  robust  health.  And 
why  have  I  thought  them  happy,  except  that  all  these 
advantages  furnished  them  aa  ample  facility  for  enjoy* 
ing  the  creature,  that  is,  for  offending  thee.  Yes, 
Lord,  I  confess  that  1  have  esteemed  health  a  blessing, 
not  because  it  was  a  ready  means  of  serving  thee  use- 
full}^,  hy  devoting  more  care  and  watchfulness  to  thy 
service,  and  by  the  ready  assistance  of  my  neighbour; 
but  that,  by  its  aid,  I  could  abandon  myself,  with  less 
restraint,  to  the  abounding  delights  of  life,  and  taste 
more  freely  its  deadly  pleasures.  Graciously,  O 
Lord,  reform  my  corrupted  reason,  and  conform  my 
principles  to  thine.  Grant  that  I  m>ay  count  myself 
happy  in  afiBiction,  and  that  in  this  inability  for  exter- 
nal action,  my  thoughts  may  be  so  purified,  as  no  lon- 
ger to  be  repugnant  to  thine  ;  and  that  in  this  way,  1 
may  iind  thee  within  me,  when  from  my  weakness  I 
cannot  go  forth  to  seek  thee.  For,  Lord,  thy  kingdom 
is  within  thy  believing  people  ;  and  I  shall  Iind  it' 
within  myself,  if  1  discover  there  thy  Spirit  and  thy 
precepts. 

10.  But,  Lord,  what  shall  I  do  to  constrain  thee  to 
pour  forth  thy  Spirit  upon  this  wretched  earth  ?  All 
that  T  am  is  hateful  in  thy  sight ;  and  1  find  nothing  in 
me  which  can  please  thee.  I  see  nothing  there,  Lord, 
except  my  griefs  which  bear  some  faint  resemblance 
to  thine.  Consider  then  the  ills  that  I  suffer,  and 
those  which  threaten  me.  Look  with  an  eye  of  pity 
on  the  wounds  which  thy  hand  hath  made.  O  my  Sa^ 
viour,  who  didst  love  thy  sufferings  even  in  death;  O 
my  God,  who  didst  become  man,  only  to  suffer  more 
than  any  man,  for  man's  salvation  ;  O  God,  who  didst 


A  PRAYER.  243 

becoms  incarnate  after  the  sin  ofmen,  anJ  who  didst 
take  a  body  onl}^  to  suffer  in  it  all  that  our  sins  deserv- 
ed ;  O  God,  who  lovest  so  much  the  suffering  bodies  . 
ofmen,  that  thou  didst  choose  for  thyself  the  most  af- 
flicted body  that  ever  was  in  the  world  ;  graciously 
accept  my  body,  not  for  its  own  sake,  nor  for  any  thing 
in  it, — for  all  daserve  tliine  indignation, — but  for  the 
miseries  which  it  endures,  which  only  can  be  worthy 
of  thy  love.  Kindly  regard  my  sufferings,  O  Lord, 
and  let  my  distresses  invite  thee  to  visit  me.  But  to 
complete  the  sanctiiicatioQ  of  thy  dwelling,  grant,  O 
my  Saviour,  that  if  my  body  is  admitted  to  the  com- 
mon privilege  with  thine,  that  it  suffers  for  my  offenc- 
es, my  soul  may  have  this  in  common  with  thy  soul, 
that  it  may  be  in  bitterness  for  them  also  ;  and  that 
thus,  1  may  suffer  with  thee,  and  like  thee,  both  in  my 
body  and  my  soul,  for  the  sins  which  I  have  committed. 
11.  Graciously,  O  Lord,  im^part  thy  consolations  du- 
ring mj  sufferings,  that  I  may  suffer  as  a  Christian.  I 
ask  not  exemption  from  distress  ;  for  this  is  the  rev\T.rd 
of  the  saints  :  but  I  pray  not  to  be  given  up  to  the  ago- 
nies of  suffering  nature,  without  the  consolations  of  thy 
Spirit ;  for  this  is  the  curse  of  Jews  and  heathens.  I 
ask  not  a  fulness  of  consolation,  without  any  suffering  ; 
for  that  is  the  life  of  glory.  I  ask  not  a  full  cup  ofsor- 
row,  without  alleviation,  for  that  is  the  present  state  of 
Judaism.  But  I  ask,  Lord,  to  feel,  at  the  same  time, 
both  the  pangs  of  nature  for  my  sins,  and  the  consola- 
tions of  thy  Spirit  through  grace  ;  for  this  is  true  Chris- 
tianity. Let  me  not  experience  pain,  without  conso- 
lation ;  but  let  me  feel  pains  and  consolations  at  the 
?ame  time,  so  that  ultimately  I  may  experience  conso- 
lation only,  free  from  all  suffering,  For  tormerh^.  Lord, 
before  the  advent  of  thy  Son,  thou  didst  leave  the  world 
to  languish  without  comfort  under  natural  suff^erings : 
now  thou  dost  console  and  temper  the  sufferings  of  thy 
saints,  by  the  grace  of  thine  only  Son  ;  and  hereafter, 
thou  wilt  crown  thy  saints  with  a  beatitude,  perfectly 
pure,  in  thy  Son's  eternal  glory.  '  These  are  the  mar- 
TeUous  degrees  through   which  thou  dost  carry   thy 


244  A  PRAYER. 

works.  Thou  bast  withdrawn  me  from  the  first ;  cause 
me  to  pass  through  the  second  that  I  may  reach  the 
third.     This,  Lord,  is  the  mercy  that  I  ask. 

12.  Suffer  me  not  to  be  so  far  alienated  from  thee,  as 
to  be  able  to  contemplate  thy  soul,  sorrowful  even 
unto  death,  and  thy  body  laid  low  in  death  for  mj^  sins, 
without  rejoicing  to  suffer  also  both  in  my  body  and  my 
mind.  For  there  is  nothing  more  disgraceful,  and  yet 
nothing  more  usual  among  Christians,  than  that  while 
thou  disdst  sweat  blood  for  the  expiation  of  our  offences, 
we  should  be  living  luxuriously  at  ease;  and  that 
Christians,  who  make  a  profession  of  being  devoted  to 
thee  ;  that  those  who,  in  their  baptism,  have  renoun- 
ced the  world  to  follow  thee  ;  that  those  who  have 
vowed  solemnly,  before  the  church,  to  live  and  die  for 
thee;  that  those  who  profess  to  believe  that  the  world 
persecuted  and  crucified  thee  ?  that  those  who  believe 
that  thou  didst  give  thyself  up  to  the  wrath  of  God,  and 
to  the  cruelty  of  men,  to  redeem  them  from  all  iniqui- 
ty ;  that  those,  I  say,  who  believe  all  these  truths,  who 
consider  th}'  body  as  the  sacrifice  offered  for  their  sal- 
vation ;  who  consider  the  indulgences,  and  the  sins  of 
this  world,  as  the  only  cause  of  thy  sufferings,  and  the 
worlditself  as  the  executioner ;  that  they  should  seek 
to  indulge  their  own  bodies  with  these  same  delights, 
and  in  this  same  world ;  and  that  they  who  could  not, 
ivithout  horror,  see  a  man  caress  and  cherish  the  mur- 
derer of  his  own  father,  who  had  surrendered  himself 
to  secure  his  life,  should  live  as  I  have  done  ;  should  live 
joyously  amidst  that  world,  which  I  know  unquestiona- 
bly to  have  been  the  murderer  of  him  whom  1  recog- 
nize as  my  Father,  and  my  God,  who  gave  himself  up 
for  my  salvation,  and  who  has  borne  in  his  own  body 
the  punishment  of  my  transgressions.  It  is  right,  O 
Lord,  that  thou  hast  interrupted  a  joyousness  so  crim- 
inal as  that  in  which  I  have  indulged  amidst  the  shad- 
ows of  death. 

13.  Take  from  me  then,  O  Lord,  the  grief  that  self- 
love  may  ieel  on  account  of  my  own  suffering,  and  on 
account  of  those  human  events  which  do  not  fill  out 


A  PRAYER.  245 

precisely  according  to  the  nishes  of  my  heart,  and 
which  do  not  niake  for  thy  glory.  But  awaken  within 
me  a  sorrow  assimilated  to  thine  own.  Let  my  suffer- 
ings mollify  thine  anger.  Make  them  the  means  of  my 
safety  and  my  conversion.  Let  me  wish  no  more  for 
health  and  lite,  but  to  employ  and  expend  them  for 
thee,  with  thee,  and  in  thee.  I  do  not  ask  of  tliee 
health  or  sickness,  life  or  death;  but  merely  that  thou 
wouldest  dispose  of  my  health  or  sickness,  of  my  life  or 
death,  for  thy  glory,  for  my  salvation,  and  for  the  bea- 
etit  of  thy  church,  and  of  thy  saints,  among  whom  I 
would  hope,  by  thy  grace,  to  be  found.  Thou  only 
know^est  what  is  needful  for  me  :  thou  art  the  sovereign 
Lord  ;  do  with  me  what  thou  wilt.  Give  or  t  ake  ;  only 
conform  my  will  to  thine;  and  grant,  that  in  humble 
and  entire  submission,  !  may  accept  the  ordinances  of 
thy  eternal  providence,  and  that  I  may  regard  with 
equal  reverence,  whatever  comes  from  thee. 

14.  Grant,  O  my  God,  that  in  uniform  equanimity  of 
mind,  I  may  receive  whatever  happens;  since  we 
know  not  what  we  should  ask,  and  since  i  cannot  wish 
for  one  thing  more  than  another  without  presumption 
and  without  setting  up  myself  as  a  judge,  and  making 
myself  responsible  for  those  consequences  which  thy 
wisdom  has  determined  properly  to  conceal  from  me. 
O  Lord,  1  know  that  I  know  but  one  thing  ;  and  that  is, 
that  it  is  good  to  follow  thee,  and  evil  to  offend  thee. 
After  that,  I  know  not  what  is  better  or  worse  in  any 
thing.  1  know  not  which  is  more  profitable  for  me, 
sickness  or  health,  wealth  or  poverty,  nor  any  other  of 
the  things  of  this  world.  This  v/ere  a  discovery  be- 
yond the  power  of  men  or  angels,  and  which  is  veiled 
in  the  secrets  of  thy  providence  which  I  adore,  and 
which  I  do  not  desire  to  fathom. 

15.  Grant  (hen,  O  Lord,  that  such  as  I  am,  I  may  be  ^ 
conformed  to  thy  will  ;  and  that  diseased  as  1  am,  I  may 
glorify  thee  in  my  sufferings.  Without  these,  1  cannot 
reach  thy  glory;  and  even  thou,  my  Saviour,  wouldst 
not  attain  to  glory  but  by  this  means.  It  was  by  the 
scars  of  thy  sufferings  that  thy  disciples  knew  thee : 

20* 


246  A  COMPARISON  OF  ANCIENT 

and  it  is  by  their  sufferings  that  thou  v/ilt  recognize 
those  who  are  thy  disciples.  Recognize  me,  O  Lord, 
amidst  the  evils  that  I  suffer,  both  in  body  and  mind,  for 
the  sins  that  I  have  committed  ;  and  because  nothing  is 
acceptable  to  God,  that  is  not  offered  b^'^  thee,  unite 
my  will  to  thine,  and  my  agonies  to  those  which  thou 
hast  endured.  Let  mine  become  thine.  Unite  me  to 
thyself;  and  fill  me  with  thyself,  and  with  thy  Holy 
Spirit.  Dwell  in  my  heart  and  soul,  to  endure  within 
me  my  sufferings, and  to  continue  to  endure  in  me, all  that 
remains  yet  unsuffered  of  thy  passion,  which  thou  com- 
pletestin  all  thy  members,  even  to  entire  perfection  of 
thy  mystical  body  ;  that  being  thus  at  length  full  of  thee, 
it  may  be  no  more  I  that  live  and  suffer,  but  that  it  may 
be  thou  who  livest  andsufferest  in  me,  O  my  Saviour; 
and  that  thus,  having  some  little  part  in  thy  sufferings, 
thou  maj^est  till  me  abundantly  with  the  glory  which 
they  have  purchased ;  in  which  thou  livest  with  the 
Father,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  world  without  end.  Amen. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  COMPARISON  OF  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  CHRISTIANS. 

.  In  the  infancy  of  the  Christian  church,  we  see  no 
Christians  but  those  who  were  thoroughly  instructed 
in  all  matters  necessary  to  salvation  ;  but,  in  these  days, 
we  see  on  every  side  an  ignorance  so  gross,  that  it  agon- 
izes all  those  who  have  a  tender  regard  for  the  inter- 
ests of  the  church.  Then,  no  one  entered  the  church, 
but  after  serious  difficulties,  and  long  cherished  wishes  ; 
now,  we  find  ourselves  associated  with  it,  without  care 

,»j)r  difficulty.J  Formerly,  no  one  was  admitted  but  after 
a  most  rigid  examination  ;  now,  every  one  is  admitted 
before  he  is  capable  of  being  examined.  Formerly, 
no  one  was  admitted  but  after  repentance  of  his  former 
life,  and  a  renunciation  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and 
the  devil ;  now,  they  enter  the    church  before   they 


AND  MODERN   CHRISTIANS.  247 

are  in  a  state  to  do  any  of  these  thing's.  In  fact,  for- 
merly it  was  necessary  to  come  out  from  the  world,  la 
order  to  be  received  into  the  church  ;  whilst,  in  these 
days,  we  enter  the  church  almost  at  the  same  time  that 
we  enter  the  world.  Then  there  was  distinctly  re- 
cognized by  those  earlier  proceedings,  an  essential 
difference  between  the  world  and  the  church.  They 
were  regarded  as  two  things,  in  direct  opposition,  as 
two  irreconcilable  enemies;  of  which  the  one  perse- 
cutes the  other  perpetually,  and  of  which,  that  .which 
seems  the  weakest,  will  one  day  triumph  over  the 
strongest ;  and  between  these  two  contending  parties, 
it  became  necessary  to  abandon  the  one,  in  order  to  en- 
ter the  other  ;  to  renounce  the  maxims  of  the  one  in  or- 
der to  follow  those  of  the  other;  each  one  must  disen- 
cumber himself  of  the  sentiments  of  the  one,  in  order 
to  put  on  the  sentiments  of  the  other;  and  finally  must 
be  prepared  to  quit,  to  renounce,  and  to  abjure  the 
world  where  he  had  his  former  birth,  and  to  devote 
himself  entirely  to  the  church  in  which  he  receives 
his  second  birth.  And  thus  a  wide  distinction  was  hab- 
ituailj'  drawn  betw^een  the  one  and  the  other.  But 
now,  we  find  ourselves  almost  at  the  same  moment  in- 
troduced into  both ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  we  are 
born  into  the  world,  and  born  anew  into  the  church.* 
So  that,  dawning  reason  now  no  longer  perceives  the 
broad  line  of  distinction  between  these  two  opposing 
worlds,  but  matures  and  strengthens,  at  the  same  time, 
under  the  combined  inliuence  of  both.  The  sacraments 
are  partaken  of,  in  conjunction  with    the  pleasures    of 


*  It  is  quite  erident  by  the  tenor  of  the  whole  passage,  that 
M.  Pascal  means  here  only  a  formal  initiation  by  baptism,  and 
not  a  spiritual  birth — a  real  regeneration.  At  the  same  time, 
the  error  which  his  words  appear  in  some  degree  to  counten- 
ance, was  held  by  the  unenlightened  part  of  the  Romish 
Church  ;  and  it  is  still  held  by  some  members  of  the  Ciurch  of 
England,  who  do  not  understand  either  her  doctrines  or  her 
services  ;  whilst  soma  men  among  us,  like  M.  Pascal,  give  an 
improper  countenance  to  the  error,  by  the  adoption  of  the  in- 
explicable notion  of  Baptismal  Regeneration. 


248  A  COMPARISION   OF  ANCIENT 

the  world  ;  and  hence,  instead  of  there  being  nn  es- 
sential distinction  between  the  one  and  the  other,  they 
are  now  so  mingled  and  confounded,  that  the  distinc- 
tion is  almost  entirely  lost. 

Hence  it  arises,  that  whilst  then  Christians  were 
all  well  instructed ;  now,  there  are  many  in  a  fearful 
state  of  ignorance;  then,  these  who  had  been  initiated 
into  Christianity  by  baptism,  and  w'ho  had  renounced 
the  vices  of  the  world,  to  embrace  the  yiet}^  of  the 
church,  rarely  declined  again  to  the  world  which  they 
had  left ;  whilst  now,  we  commonly  see  the  vices  of 
the  world  in  the  hearts  of  Christians.  The  church 
of  the  saints  is  all  denied  with  the  intermingling  of 
the  wicked  ;  and  her  children  that  she  has  conceived, 
and  borne  from  their  infancy  ^t  her  sides,  are  they  who 
carry  into  her  very  heart,  that  is  even  to  the  partici- 
pation of  her  holiest  mysteries, — her  deadliest  foes — 
the  spirit  of  the  world — the  spirit  of  ambition,  of  re- 
venge, of  impurity,  and  of  lust ;  and  the  love  which 
she  bears  for  her  children,  compels  her  to  admit  into 
her  very  bowels,  the  bitterest  of  her  persecutors. 

BAJt  we  must  not  impute  to  the  church  the  evils 
that  have  followed  so  fatal  a  change  ;  for  when  she 
saw  that  the  delay  of  baptism  left  a  large  portion  of 
infants  still  under  the  curse  of  original  sin,  she  wished 
to  deliver  them  from  this  j)erdition,  by  hastening  the 
succor  which  she  can  give  ;  and  this  good  mother 
sees,  with  bitter  regret,  that  the  benefit  which  she 
thus  holds  out  to  infants,  becomes  the  occasion  of  the 
ruin  of  adults. 

Th2  true  meaning  cf  the  church  i<,  that  those  whom 
she  thjs  withdraws  at  so  tender  an  age,  from  the 
contagioa  of  the  world,  should  subsequently  become 
separate  from  its  opinions.  She  anticipates  the  agen- 
cy of  reason,  to  prevent  those  vices  into  which  cor- 
rupted reason  might  entice  them ;  and  that,  before 
their  natural  mind  could  act,  she  might  fill  theni  with 
her  better  spirit,  so  that  they  might  live  in  ignorance 
of  the  world,  and  in  a  state  so  much  further  removed 
from  vice,  in  as  much  as  they  have    never  known  it. 


AND  MODERN   CHRISTIANS.  249 

This  is  evident  in  the  bnptismal  service  ;  for  she  does 
not  confer  baptism  till  the  children  have  declared,  by 
the  lips  of  their  parents,  that  they  desire  it — that  they 
believe — that  they  renounce  the  world  and  the  devil. 
And  as  the  church  wishes  them  to  preserve  these  dis- 
positions throughout  life,  she  expressly  enjoins  upon 
them  to  keep  them  inviolate  ;  and  by  an  indispensable 
command,  she  requires  the  parents  to  instruct  their 
children  in  all  these  things  ;  for  she  does  not  wish  that 
those,  whom  from  their  infancy  she  has  nourished  in 
her  bosom,  should  be  less  enlightened,  and  less  zealous 
than  those  whom  she  formerly  received  as  her  own ; 
she  cannot  be  satisfied  with  a  less  degree  of  perfection 
in  those  v/hom  she  herself  has  trained,  than  in  those 
whom  she  admits  to  her  communion. 

Yet  the  rule  of  the  church  is  so  perverted  from  its 
original  intention,  that  it  cannot  be  thought  of  without 
horror.  Men  think  no  more  of  the  peculiar  blessing 
which  they  have  received,  because  they  did  not  them- 
selves ask  it,  because  they  do  not  even  remember 
having  received  it.  But  since  it  is  evident,  that  the 
church  requires  no  less  piety  in  those  who  have  been 
brought  up  from  infancy  as  the  servants  of  faith,  than 
in  those  wdio  aspire  to  become  such,  it  becomes  such 
persons  to  set  before  them  the  example  of  the  ancient 
Catechumens  of  the  early  church,  to  consider  their 
ardor,  their  devotion,  their  dread  of  the  world,  their 
noble  renunciation  of  it;  and  if  they  were  not  thought 
worthy  to  receive  baptism,  without  these  dispositions, 
those  who  do  not  find  such  dispositions  in  themselves, 
should  at  once  submit  to  receive  that  instruction 
which  they  would  have  had,  if  they  were  now  only 
about  to  seek  an  entrance  into  the  communion  of  the 
church.  It  becomes  them  still  further  to  humble 
themselves  to  such  a  penitence,  as  they  may  wish 
never  to  throw  aside ;  such  that  they  may  henceforth 
find  less  of  disgust  in  the  austere  mortification  of  the 
senses  than  of  attraction  in  the  criminal  pleasures  of 
sin. 

To  induce  them  to   seek  instruction,  they  must  be 


250  A  COMFA^ISON  OF  AxXCTENT 

mads  to  understand  the  difference  of  the  customs 
which  have  obtained  in  the  church  at  difierent 
times.  In  the  newly  formed  Christian  church,  the 
Catechumens,  that  is,  those  who  are  offered  for  baptism, 
were  instructed  before  the  rite  was  conferred  ;  and 
they  were  not  admitted  to  it,  till  after, full  instruction 
in  the  mysteries  of  religion  ;  till  af\er  penitence  for 
their  former  life  ;  till  after  a  great  measure  of  knowl- 
edge, of  the  grandeur  and  excellence  of  a  j)rofession 
of  the  Christian  faith  and  obedience,  on  which  they 
desire  to  enter  forever;  till  after  some  eminent  marks 
of  real  conversion  of  heart,  and  an  extreme  desire  for 
baptism.  These  facts  being  made  known  to  the  whole 
church,  they  then  conferred  upon  them  the  sacrament 
of  Incorporation  or  initiation,  by  v.hich  they  became' 
members  of  the  church.*  But  now,  since  baptism  has 
been,  for  man}'  very  important  reasons,  permitted  to 
infants  before  the  dawn  of  reason,  we  fmd,  through 
the  negligence  of  parents  that  nominal  Christians  grow 
old  without  any  knowledge  of  our  religion. 
f  When  teaching  preceded  baptism,  all  were  instruct- 
I  ed  ;  but  now,  that  baptism  precedes  instruction,  that 
I     teaching  which  was  then  made  necessary  for  the    sac- 

Lrament,  is  become  merely  voluntary,  and  is  conse- 
cjuently  neglected,  and  almost  abolished.  Pvcason  then 
shewed  the  necessity  of  instruction  ;  and  when  instruc- 
tion went  before  baptism,  the  necessity  of  the  one,com- 
pelled  men  necessarily  to  have  recourse  to  the  other. 
But  in  these  days,  when  baptism  precedes  instruction, 
as  men  are  made  Christians,  in  the  first  instance,  with- 
out instruction,  so  they  believe  that  they  may  remain 
Christians  without  being  instructed  ;  and  instead  of  its 
being  the  case,  that  the  primitive  Chrisiiims  express- 
ed the  warmest  gratitude  for  a  grace  which  the  church 
•only  granted  after  reiterated  petitions — the  Christians 


*  This  was  the  case  v.ith  converted  heathens;  but  if  M. 
Pascal  conceived  it  to  be  the  case  with  the  children  of  baptiz- 
ed believers,  he  is  in  error  ;  and  the  whole  tenor  of  the  history 
of  the  church  will  prove  him  to  be  SO4 


AND  MODERN  CHRISTIAIVS.  251 

of  these  Jays,  manifest  nothing-  but  ingratitude  for  this 
same  blessing  conferred  upon  Ihem,  before  they  were 
in  a  state  to  ask  it.  11  the  chrnch  so  decidedly  abhor- 
red the  occasional,  though  extrem  ely  rare  instances  o 
backsliding  among  the  primitive  Christians,  how  ought 
she  to  hold  in  abhorrence,  the  falling, again  and  again 
of  modern  Christians,  notwithstanding  the  far  higher 
degree  in  which  they  stand  indebted  to  the  church, 
for  having  so  speedily  and  liberally  removed  them 
from  that  state  of  curse,  in  which,  by  their  natural 
birth,  they  were  involved.  She  cannot  see  without 
bitter  lamentation,  this  abuse  of  her  richest  blessings; 
and  the  course  which  she  has  adopted  for  her  childrens' 
safety,  becomes  the  almost  certain  occasion  of  their 
ruin  ;  for  her  spirit  is  not  changed,  though  the  primi- 
itiye  custom  is."^ 


*  These  views  of  M.  Pascal,  evidently  originate  in  the  diflS- 
culty  presented  to  a  believing  mind,  by  the  formal  and  irre- 
ligious state  of  the  Christian  chiirches.  The  thought  will  oc- 
cur to  a  considerate  mind,  lately  awakened  to  feel  the  power 
of  true  religion,  after  a  youth  of  nominal  religion  and  real 
carelessness,  "  Whence  does  this  evil  arise  ?"  And  this  refer- 
ence to  the  mode  of  admitting  converts  from  hjeathenism,  in 
earlier  days,  is  one  way  of  settling  the  point,  to  which  young 
Christians  frequently  have  recourse.  Yet  this  is  cutting  the 
knot,  instead  of  untying  it.  It  is  an  error  which  originates  in 
an  unfounded  and  imaginary  notion  of  the  state  of  the  Chris- 
tian church  at  any  time.  A  little  patience  and  experience—^ 
a  little  practical  knowledge  of  how  the  Christian  system  works, 
would  give  a  very  different  view  of  the  matter.  It  is,  howev- 
er, on  this  summary  mode  of  settling  the  difficulty,  to  which 
the  inexperienced  mind  resorts — that  the  Anabaptist  Churches 
found  their  peculiar  notions,  and  justify  their  separation  ;  and 
it  is  in  the  ready  application  of  this  notion  to  meet  the  difficulty 
when  it  first  arises,  that  they  find  their  success.  Pascal,  after 
mature  deliberation  on  the  facts  of  the  case,  did  not  at  all  see 
the  necessity  of  renouncing  the  custom  of  Infant  Baptism.  He 
could  distinguish  between  an  evil  that  casually  accompanied^ 
and  an  evil  that  oridaated    in  that  custom. 


232  ON  THE  CONVERSION" 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


ON  THE  CONVERSION  OF  A  SINNER. 

The  first  thing  which  God  imparts  to  a  sou]  that 
he  has  really  touched,  is  a  degree  of  knowledge  and 
perception,  altogether  extraordinary,  by  which  the 
soul  regards  both  itself,  and  the  other  things  in  a  total- 
ly novel  manner. 

This  new  light  excites  fear,  and  imparts  to  the  soul 
a  restlessness  which  thwarts  the  repose  that  it  had 
formerly  found  in  the  wonted  sources  of  indulgence. 

The  man  can  no  longer  relish,  with  tranquillity,  the 
objects  by  which  he  had  been  previously  charmed. 
A  perpetual  scrupulousness  haunts  him  in  his  enjoy- 
ments :  and  this  interior  perception  will  not  allov/  him 
any  longer  to  find  the  wonted  sweetness  in  those  things 
to  which  he  had  yielded  with  all  melting  fulness  of 
the  heart. 

But  he  finds  yet  more  bitterness  in  the  exercises  of 
piety,  than  in  the  vanities  of  the  world.  On  one  side, 
the  vanity  of  the  things  that  are  seen,  is  felt  more 
deeply  than  the  hope  of  the  things  that  are  not  seen  ; 
and  on  the  other,  the  reality  of  invisible  things  aifects 
him  more  than  the  vanity  of  the  things  which  are  seen. 
And  thus  the  presence  of  the  one,  and  the  absence  of 
the  other,  excite  his  disgust,  so  that  there  arise  within 
him  a  disorder  and  confusion  which  he  can  scarcely 
correct,  but  which  is  the  result  of  ancient  impressions 
long  experienced,  and  new  impressions  now  first 
communicated. 

He  considers  perishable  things  as  perishing,  and 
even  as  already  perished;  and,  in  the  certain  convic- 
tion of  the  annihilation  of  all  that  he  has  loved,  he 
trembles  at  the  thought  ;  whilst  he  sees,  that  every 
moment  goes  to  rob  him  of  the  enjoyment  of  happi- 
ness, and  that  that  which  is  dearest  to  him,  is  perpetu- 


OF  A  SINNER.  233 

ally  gliding  away  ;  and,  that  at  length,  a  day  will  come 
in  which  he  will  find  himself  bereft  of  all  on  which  he 
had  built  his  hope.  So  that  he  sees  clearly,  that  as  his 
heart  is  devoted  only  to  things  in  themselves  fragile 
and  vain,  his  soul  must,  at  the  exit  from  this  life,  tind 
itself  solitary  and  destitute,  since  he  has  taken  no  care 
to  unite  himself  to  a  real  and  self-subsistent  good, 
which  could  support  him  in,  and  subsequently  to,  this 
present  existence. 

And  hence  he  begins  to  consider  as  a  nonentit}'-,  every 
thing  which  returns  to  nothingness, — the  heavens,  the 
earth,  his  body,  his  relations,  his  friends,  his  enemies, 
wealth  or  poverty,  humiliation  or  prosperity,  honor 
or  ignomin}'',  esteem  or  contempt,  authority  or  insig- 
nificance, health  or  sickness,  and  even  life  itself.  In 
fact,  whatever  is  shorter  in  duration  than  his  soul,  is 
incapable  of  satisfying  the  desires  of  that  soul,  which 
earnestly  seeks  to  establisli  itself  on  a  basis  of  felicity 
as  durable  as  itself. 

He  begins  to  regard  with  astonishment,  the  blindness 
in  which  he  has  been  plunged  ;  and  when  he  considers 
on  the  one  hand,  the  length  of  time  that  he  has  lived 
without  any  such  thoughts,  and  the  great  number  of 
persons  who  live  with  equal  thoughtlessness  ;  and,  on 
the  other,  how  clear  it  is  that  the  soul  being  im.mortal, 
cannot  find  happiness  in  the  things  that  perish,  and 
which  must,  at  all  events,  be  taken  from  him  by  death; 
then  there  comes  upon  him  a  holy  anxiety  and  aston- 
ishment which  give  rise  to  salutary  sorrow. 

For  he  considers  that  however  great  may  be  the 
number  of  those  who  grow  old  in  the  ways  of  the  world, 
and  whatever  authority  may  be  in  the  multitude  of  ex- 
amples, of  those  who  place  their  happiness  in  this 
world,  it  is  nevertheless  certain,  that  even  if  the  things 
of  this  world  had  in  them  some  substantial  delight, — 
an  assumption  which  is  falsified  by  the  fiital  and  con- 
tinual ex[)erience  of  an  infinite  number  of  persons, — 
the  loss  of  these  things  is  certain,  at  the  moment  when 
death  separates  us  from  them. 

So  that,  if  the  soul  has  amassed  a  treasure  oftempo- 
21 


264  ON  THE    CONVERSION 

ral  good,  whether  of  gold,  of  science,  or  of  reputation, 
it  is  inevitably  necessary,  that  it  must  one  day  find  it- 
self denuded  of  all  the  objects  of  its  feUcity  ;  and  hence 
it  appears,  that  though  many  objects  have  had  in  them 
that  which  ministered  satisfaction,  thej'  had  uot  that 
which  would  have  satisfied  him  permanently  ;  and  that 
even  if  they  procured  liiin  a  haT)piness  that  was  real, 
they  could  not  procure  a  happiness  that  was  lasting, 
because  it  must  be  terminated  by  the  limits  of  human 
life. 

Then  b}^  a  holy  humilitj^,  which  God  has  exalted 
above  pride,  the  man  begins  to  rise  above  the  common 
habits  of  men  in  general.  He  condemns  their  con- 
duct ;  he  detests  their  maxims  ;  he  laments  their  blind- 
ness ;  he  devotes  himself  to  the  search  for  that  which 
is  truly  good ;  he  arrives  at  the  conviction,  that  it  must 
possess  these  two  qualities, — the  one,  that  it  must  be 
as  durable  as  himself, — the  other,  ihatit  must  be  more 
worthy  of  love  than  any  thing  else. 

He  sees  that  in  the  love  which  he  has  cherished  to- 
wards the  world,  he  has  found  in  it,  owing  to  his  blind- 
cess,  the  second  quality  of  these  two,  lur  he  had  dis- 
covered nothing  more  worthy  of  his  love,  but  now  as 
he  sees  not  in  it  the  former  quality  also,  he  knows  that 
it  is  not  the  sovereign  good.  He  seeks  it  then  else- 
where ;  and  knowing  by  an  illumination  altogether 
pure,  that  it  does  not  exist  in  the  things  which  are 
within  him,  or  around  him,  or  before  him,  he  begins  to 
seek  for  it  in  those  things  which  are  above. 

This  elevation  of  soul  is  so  lofty  and  transcendant, 
that  it  stops  not  at  the  heavens;  they  have  not  what 
would  satisfy  him  ;  nor  at  the  things  above  the  heav- 
ens, nor  at  the  angels,  nor  at  the  most  perfect  of  crea- 
ted beings.  It  darts  through  universal  creation,  and 
cannot  pause  till  it  has  reached  the  very  throne  of  God; 
there  the  soul  begins  to  find  repose,  and  grasps  that 
real  good  which  is  such,  that  there  is  nothing  more 
truly  worthy  of  love,  and  that  it  cannot  be  taken  from 
him  but  l)y  his  own  consent. 

For  though  he  does  not  yet  taste  those  enjoyments 


OF  A  SIiVNER.  255 

by  which  God  blesses  the  services  of  habitual  piety,  he 
learns,  at  least,  that  the  creatures  can  never  deserve 
his  love  more  than  the  Creator  ;  and  his  reason,  aided 
by  the  light  of  grace,  teaches  him  that  there  is  noth- 
ing more  worthy  of  love  than  God,  and  that  He  cannot 
be  taken  away  except  from  those  who  reject  him, — 
since  to  desire  God,  is  to  possess  him;  and  to  refuse 
him,  is  to  lose  him. 

And  thus  he  rejoices  in  having  found  a  blessing 
which  cannot  be  torn  from  him  as  long  as  he  wishes  to 
possess  it,  and  which  has  nothing  superior  to  itself 

And  with  these  novel  reflections,  he  enters  upon  the 
vieAv  of  the  grandeur  of  his  Creator,  and  upon  acts  of 
the  deepest  humiliation  and  reverence.  He  counts 
himself  as  le^s  than  nothing  in  that  presence  ;  and, 
being  unable  to  form  of  himself  an  idea  sufficiently  hu- 
miliating, or  to  conceive  of  the  sovereign  Good  a 
thought  sufficiently  exalted,  he  makes  repeatedly  fresh 
efforts,  to  lower  himself  to  the  last  abysses  of  nothing- 
ness, whilst  he  surveys  God  still  in  interminably  mul- 
tiplying immensities  ;  and,  at  last,  exhausted  by  this 
mighty  conception,  he  adores  in  silence,  he  looks  on 
himself  as  a  vile  and  useless  creature,  and  by  repeated 
acts  of  veneration,  adores  and  blesses  his  God,  and 
would  for  ever  bless  and  adore. 

Then  he  sees  something  of  the  grace  by  which  God 
has  manifested  his  infinite  majesty  to  a  worthless 
worm — he  is  ashamed  and  confounded  at  having  pre- 
ferred so  many  vanities  to  such  a  Divine  Master  ;  and, 
in  the  spirit  of  compunction  and  penitence,  he  looks 
up  for  his  compassion  to  arrest  that  anger,  the  effect 
of  which,  seen  through  these  immensities,  seems  to 
hang  over  him  so  awfully. 

He  sends  up  ardent  prayers  to  God,  to  obtain  this 
mercy,  that  as  it  has  pleased  Him  to  disclose  himself 
to  his  soul,  it  would  please  Him  also  to  lead  it  to  him- 
self, and  prepare  for  him  the  means  of  reaching  Him. 
For  it  is  to  God  that  he  now  aspires,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  he  only  aspires  to  reach  Him  by  those  means 
which  come  from  God  himself,  for  he  wishes  God  him- 


256  ON  THE    CONVERSION  OF  A  SINNER. 

self  to  be  his  way,  his  object,  and  his  end.  Then  on 
the  result  of  these  prayers,  he  ie^irns  that  he  ought  to 
act  conlbrmably  to  the  new  light  which  he  has  re- 
ceived. 

He  begins  to  know  God,  and  to  desire  to  go  to  him  ; 
but  he  is  ignorant  of  the  mode  of  reaching  him.  If, 
then,  his  desire  is  sincere  and  real,  just  as  a  person 
who  wishes  to  go  to  a  particular  spot,  but  who  has 
lost  his  way,  and  knows  that  he  is  in  error,  has  re- 
course to  those  who  are  well  acquainted  with  it,  so 
he  seeks  advice  from  those  who  can  teach  him  the 
•way  that  leads  to  the  God,  from  whom  he  has  so  long 
been  alienated.  And  in  thus  seeking  to  know  this  way, 
resolves  to  regulate  his  conduct  for  the  remainder  of 
his  life  by  the  truth,  as  far  as  he  knows  it;  and  seeing 
that  his  natural  weakness,  together  with  the  habitual 
tendency  which  he  now  .has  to  the  sin  in  which  he 
has  lived,  have  incapacitated  him  for  reaching  the 
happiness  of  which  he  is  in  search,  he  implores  from 
the  mercy  of  God  those  gracious  aids  by  which  he  may 
find  him,  devote  himself  to  him,  and  adhere  to  him  for 
ever.  Heartily  occupied  by  the  loveliness  ofthe  Di- 
vine excellency, — old  as  eternity,  in  fact,  but  to  him 
so  new  ; — he  feels  that  all  he  does  ought  to  bear  him 
towards  this  adorable  object ;  he  sees  now  clearly  that 
he  ought  henceforth  only  to  think  of  adoring  God,  as 
his  creature,  of  gratitude  to  him  for  unnumbered  obli- 
gations, of  penitence  as  guilty,  and  prayer  as  necessi- 
tous ;  so  that  his  entire  occupation  should  be  to  con- 
template, and  love,  and  praise  him  throughout  eter- 
nity. 


REASONS  FOR  SOME  OPINIONS.  257 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

REASONS  FOR  SOME  OPINIONS  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

I  WRITE  my  thoughts  here  without  order,  but  proba- 
bly not  in  mere  unmeaning  confusion.  It  is,  in  fact, 
the  true  order,  and  will  mark  my  object,  even  by  the 
disorder  itself. 

We  shall  see  that  all  the  opinions  of  the  multitude 
are  very  sound:  that  the  people  are  not  so  weak  as 
they  are  reported  ;  and,  that  consequently,  the  opin- 
ion which  would  destroy  the  opinion  of  the  people, 
will  be  itself  destroyed. 

2.  It  is  true  in  one  sense,  that  all  the  world  is  in  a 
state  of  delusion  ;  for  although  the  opinions  of  the  peo- 
ple are  sound,  they  are  not  so  as  held  by  them,  be- 
cause they  conceive  the  truth  to  reside  where  it  does 
not.  There  is  truth  in  their  opinions,  but  not  where 
they  suppose, 

3.  The  people  reverence  men  of  high  birth.  Your 
half-informed  men  despise  them,  affirming,  that  birth 
is  not  a  personal  advantage,  but  a  mere  accident. 
Your  really  superior  men  honor  them,  not  on  the 
ground  of  the  popular  notion,  but  for  loftier  reasons. 
Certain  zealots  of  narrow  views,  despise  them,  not- 
withstanding those  reasons  which  secure  to  them  the 
respect  of  superior  men,  because  they  judge  by  a  new 
light,  that  their  measure  of  piety  imparts.  But  more 
advanced  Christians  give  them  honor,  according  to  the 
dictate?  of  light  yet  superior  ;  and  thus  opinions,  for 
aad  against,  obtain  in  succession,  according  to  the 
light  possessed. 

4.  Civil  wars  are  the  greatest  of  evils.  They  are 
certain,  if  it  is  wished  to  recompense  merit,  for  all 
would  affirm  that  they  deserved  reward.  The  evil  to 
be  feared  from  a  fool  who  succeeds  by  inheritance,  is 
neither  so  great  nor  so  certain. 

21* 


258  REASONS  FOR  SOME  OPINIONS 

Why  follow  the  majority?  Is  it  because  they  have 
mere  reason?  No.  But  because  they  have  more 
^rce.  Why  follow  ancient  laws,  and  jancient  opinions  ? 
Are  they  wiser?  No.  But  they  stand  apart  from 
present  interests;  and  thus  take  away  the  root  of  dif- 
ference. 

6.  The  empire  founded  on  opinion  and  imagination, 
sometimes  has  the  upper  hand  ;  and  this  dominion  is 
mild  and  voluntary.  The  empire  of  force  reigns  al- 
ways. Opinion  is,  as  it  were,  the  queen  of  the  world  ; 
but  force  is  its  tyrant. 

7.  How  wisely  are  men  distinguished  by  their  exte- 
rior, rather  than  their  interior  qualifications.  Which 
of  us  two  shall  take  the  lead  ?  Which  shall  yield  pre- 
cedence ?  The  man  of  least  talent.  But  I  am  as 
clever*  as  he.  Then  we  must  fight  it  out  for  this. 
But  he  has  four  lacqueys,  and  I  have  but  one.  There 
is  a  visible  difference  ;  we  have  only  to  count  them. 
It  is  my  place  then  to  give  way;  and  I  am  a  tool  to 
contest  \he  point.  This  arrangement  keeps  us  in 
peace  ;  which  is  of  all  blessings  the  greatest. 

8.  From  the  habit  of  seeing  kings  surrounded  with 
guards,  and  drums,  and  officers,  and  with  all  these  ap- 
pendages which  tend  to  create  respect  and  terror,  it 
happens,  that  the  countenance  of  kings,  even  though 
seen  sometimes  without  these  adjuncts,  still  awakens 
in  their  subjects  the  same  reverential  feeling;  because 
even  then,  we  do  not  mentally  separate  their  person 
from  the  train  with  which  we  usually  see  them  attend- 
ed. The  miiltitude  who  know  not  that  this  effect  has 
its  origin  in  custom,  believe  it  to  originate  in  native 
feeling;  and  hence  arise  such  expressions  as.  The 
character  of  divinity  is  imprinted  on  his  countenance, 
&c. 


*  The  translator  does  not  use  the  term  clever^  according  to 
the  cuslom  of  New  England  people.  Abh  or  skilful  would 
be  an  equivalent  to  habile.        ,  A.  E. 


OF  THE  PEOPLE.  259 

The  power  of  kings  is  founded  on  the  reason,  and 
on  the  iblly  of  the  people  ;  but  most  chiefly  on  their 
folly.  The  greatest  and  most  important  thing  in  the 
world  has  weakness  for  its  basis;  and  this  basis  is 
wonderfully  secure,  tor  there  is  nothing  more  certain, 
than  that  the  people  v,  ill  be  weak  ;  whilst  that  which 
has  its  foundation  in  reason  only,  is  very  insecure,  as 
the  esteem  for  wisdom. 

9.  Our  magistrates  have  well  understood  this  mys- 
tery. Their  crimson  robes,  their  ermine,  in  which 
they  wrap  themselves,  the  palaces  of  justice,  the  fleur- 
de-lis — all  this  pomp  and  circumspection  was  neces- 
sary; and  if  physicians  had  not  their  cassock  and  their 
mule;  and  if  theologians  had  not  their  square  cap, 
and  their  flowing  garments,  they  would  never  have 
duped  the  world,  which  could  never  withstand  this 
authenticating  demonstration.  Soldiers  are  the  only 
men  who  are  not  in  some  measure  disguised  ;  and  that 
is,  because  their  own  share  in  the  matter,  is  the  most 
essential  part  of  it.  They  gain  their  point  by  actual 
force, — the  others  by  grimace. 

On  this  account  our  kings  have  not  had  recourse  to 
such  disguises.  They  have  not  masked  themselves  in 
extraordinary  habits,  in  order  to  appear  impressive; 
but  they  have  surrounded  themselves  with  guards,  and 
lancers,  and  whiskered  faces,  men  who  have  hands  and 
energies  only  for  this  service.  The  drums  and  trum- 
pets which  go  before  them,  and  the  legions  that  sur- 
round them,  make  even  brave  men  tremble.  They 
not  only  wear  a  dress,  but  they  are  clothed  with  might. 
A  man  had  need  have  an  unprejudiced  mind,  to  con- 
sider merely  as  another  man,  the  Grand  Seignior  sur- 
rounded by  his  glittering  train  of  40,000  Janissaries. 

If  magistrates  were  possessed  of  real  justice,  if  phy- 
sicians knevv  the  true  art  of  healing,  there  were  no 
need  of  square  caps.  The  majesty  of  science  would 
be  sutflciently  venerable  alone.  But  possessed  as  they 
mostly  are,  with  only  imaginary  science,  they  must  as- 
sume these  vain  adorements  which  impress  the  imagi- 
nation of  those  among  whom  they  labor,  and,  by  that 


260  REASONS  FOR  SOME  OPINIONS 

means,  they  obtain  respect.  We  cannot  look  at  an 
advocate  in  his  gown  and  his  wig,  without  a  favorable 
impression  of  his  abilities. 

The  Swiss  are  offended  at  being  called  gentlemen, 
and  have  to  establish  the  proof  of  their  low  origin,  in 
order  to  qualify  them  for  stations  of  importance.* 

10.  No  one  chooses  for  a  pilot,  the  highest  born 
passenger  on  board. 

All  the  world  sees  that  we  labor  with  uncertainty 
before  us,  either  by  sea,  in  battle,  &c.  but  all  the 
world  do  not  see  the  law  of  the  chances,  which  shews 
that  we  do  rightly.  Montaigne  saw  that  a  narrow  mind 
is  an  offence,  and  that  custom  rules  every  thing, — but 
he  did  not  see  the  reason  of  this.  Those  who  see 
only  effects,  and  not  their  causes,  are  in  relation  to 
those  who  discover  the  causes,  as  those  who  have 
eyes  only  compared  with  those  who  have  mind.  For 
the  effects  are  perceptible  to  the  senses,  but  the  reasons 
only  to  the  understanding.  And  though,  in  fact,  these 
effects  perceived  by  the  understanding,  yet  such  a 
mind,  compared  with  that  which  discovers  the  causes, 
is  as  the  bodily  senses  to  the  intellectual  powers. 

11.  How  is  it  that  a  lame  man  does  not  anger  us, 
but  a  blundering  mind  does  ?  It  is,  that  the  cripple  ad- 
mits that  we  walk  straight,  but  a  crippled  mind  ac- 
cuses us  of  limping?  But  for  this,  we  should  feel  more 
of  pity  than  of  anger. 

Epictelus  asks  also,  Why  we  are  not  annoyed  if  any 
one  tells  us  that  we  are  unwell  in  the  head,  and  yet 
are  angry  if  they  tell  us  that  we  reason  falsel}',  or 
choose  unwisely  ?  The  reason  is,  that  we  know  cer- 
tainly that  nothing  ails  our  heads,  or  that  we  are  not 
crippled  in  the  body.  But  we  are  not  certain  that  we 
have  chosen  correctly.  So  that  having  only  assurance, 
inasmuch  as  we  perceive  the  matter  distinctly,  whilst 
another  sees  it  as  clearly  the   contrary    waj',   we   are 


*At  Basle  they  must  renounce  their  nobility,  in  order  to  en- 
ter the  senate. 


OF  THE  PEOPLE.  261 

necessarily  brought  into  doubt  and  suspense  ;  and  still 
more  so,  when  a  thousand  others  laugh  at  our  decis- 
ion ;  for  we  must  prefer  our  own  convictions  to  those 
of  ever  so  many  others,  and  yet  that  is  a  bold  and 
difficult  course.  Now,  we  never  feel  this  contradic- 
tion of  our  senses  in  a  case  of  actual  lameness. 

12=  Respect  for  others  requires  you  to  inconvenience 
yourself.  This  seems  foolish  ;  yet  is  very  proper.  It 
says,  "  I  would  willingly  inconvenience  myself  seri- 
ousl  V,  if  it  would  serve  you,  seeing  that  I  do  so  when 
it  will  not."  Besides,  the  object  of  this  respect  is  to 
distinguish  the  great.  Now,  if  respect  might  show  it- 
self by  lolling  in  an  elbow  chair,  we  should  respect  all 
the  world,  and  then  we  should  not  distinguish  the 
great;  but  being  put  to  inconvenience,  we  distinguish 
them  plainly  enough. 

13.  A  superior  style  of  dress  is  not  altogether  vain. 
It  shews  how  many  persons  labor  for  us.  A  man 
shews  by  his  hair  that  he  has  a  valet  and  perfumer,  &c. ; 
and  by  his  band,  his  linen  and  lace,  &c.  It  is  not  then, 
a  mere  superficial  matter,  a  mere  harness,  to  have 
many  hands  employed  in  our  service. 

15.  Strange  indeed !  they  would  have  me  not  pay 
respect  to  that  man  dressed  in  embroider}^,  and  follow- 
ed by  seven  or  eight  lacqueys.  Why  he  would  horse- 
whip me  if  I  did  not.  Now,  this  custom  is  a  matter  of 
compulsion :  it  does  not  exist  between  two  horses, 
when  one  is  better  caparisoned  than  the  other. 

It  is  droll  in  Montaigne,  that  he  does  not  see  the  dif- 
ference between  admiring  what  we  see,  and  asking  the 
reason  of  it. 

15.  The  people  have  some  wise  notions;  for  ex- 
ample, the  having  chosen  amusements  and  hunting,  in 
preference  to  poetry.  Your  half-learned  gentry  laugh 
at  them,  and  delight  in  pointing  out  their  folly  in  this ; 
but  for  reasons  which  they  cannot  perceive,  the  people 
are  right.  It  is  well  also  to  distinguish  men  by  externals, 
as  by  birth  or  property.  The  world  strives  to  shew 
how  unreasonable  this  is ;  but  it  is  perfectly  reasona- 
ble. 


262  REASONS  FOR  SOME  OPINIONS,   k,C. 

16.  Rank  is  a  g'l-eat  advantage,  as  it  gives  to  a  man 
of  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  a  degree  of  accep- 
tance, publicity,  and  respect,  which  another  can  scarce- 
ly obtain  by  merit  at  fifty.  There  is  a  gain,  then,,  of 
thirty  years  without  difficulty. 

17.  There  are  men,  who,  to  shew  us  that  we  are 
wrong,  in  not  esteeming  them  more  highly,  nevei  fail 
to  bring  forward  the  names  of  those  persons  of  quality 
who  think  well  of  them.  I  would  answer. them, 
"  Shew  us  the  merit  by  which  you  have  gained  their 
esteem,  and  we  will  esteem  you  as  they  do." 

18.  If  a  man  stands  at  the  windowllbsee  those  who 
pass,  and  I  happen  to  pass  b}^,  can  I  say  that  he  placed 
himself  there  to  see  me?  No:  for  he  did  not  think  of 
me  particularly.  But  if  a  man  loves  a  women  for  her 
beauty,  does  he  love /^er  .^  No:  for  the  small-pox 
which  destroys  her  beauty  without  killing  her,  causes 
his  love  to  cease.  And  if  any  one  loves  me  for  my 
judgment  or  my  memory,  does  he  really  love  me  ? 
No:  for  lean  lose  these  qualities  without  ceasing  to 
be.  Where  then  is  this  me,  iflt  is  neither  in  the  body 
nor  the  soul?  And  how  are  we  to  love  the  soul,  ex- 
cept it  be  for  those  qualities  which  do  not  make  up  this 
me,  because  they  are  perishable  ?  For  can  we  love 
the  soul  of  a  person  abstractl}^,  and  some  qualities  that 
belong  to  it?  That  cannot  be  ;  and  it  would  be  un- 
just. Then  they  never  love  the  person,  but  only  the 
qualities;  or,  if  they  5ay  that  they  love  the  person, 
they  must  say  also,  that  the  combination  of  qualities 
constitutes  the  person. 

14.  Those  things  about  which  we  are  most  anxious, 
are  very  often  a  mere  nothing;  as,  for  instance,  the 
concealment  of  our  narrow  circumstances.  This  evil 
of  poverty  is  a  mere  nothing,  that  imagination  has 
magnified  to  a  mountain.  Another  turn  of  thought 
w)uld  induce  us  to  tell  it  without  difficulty. 

20.  Those  who  have  the  power  ofinvention  are  but 
few.  Those  who  have  not  are  many,  and  consequent- 
ly, the  strongest  party.  And  generally,  we  see  that 
they  refuse  to  the  inventors  the 'praise  that  they   de- 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS.  263 

serve,  and  that  they  seek  by  their  inventions.  If  they 
persist  in  seeking  it,  and  treat  contemptuously  those 
who  have  not  this  talent,  they  will  gain  nothing  but  a 
few  hard  names,  and  they  will  be  treated  as  visiona- 
ries. A  man  should  take  care,  therefore,  not  to  plume 
himself  upon  this  advantage,  great  as  it  is  ;  and  he 
should  be  content  to  be  esteemed  by  the  few,  who  real- 
ly can  appreciate  his  merits. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS. 

There  are  plenty  of  good  maxims  in  the  world  ;  we 
fail  only  in  applying  them.  For  instance,  it  is  without 
doubt  fhat  we  should  expose  life  to  defend  the  public 
good  ;  and  many  do  this :  but  scarcely  any  one  does 
this  for  religion.  It  is  necessary  that  there  be  inequal- 
ity in  the  state  of  man ;  but  that  being  granted,  the 
door  is  opened,  not  only  to  the  highest  domination,  but 
to  the  highest  degree  of  tyranny.  It  is  needful  to  al- 
low some  relaxation  of  mind  ;  but  this  opens  the  door 
to  the  loosest  dissipations.  The  limits  should  be  mark- 
ed ;  they  are  not  laid  down.  The  laws  would  prescribe 
them,  but  the  human  mind  will  not  endure  it. 

2.  The  authority  of  reason  is  far  more  imperious 
than  that  of  a  master :  for  he  who  disobeys  the  one,  is 
unhappy  ;  but  he  who  disobeys  the  other,  is  a  fool. 

3.  Why  would  you  kill  me?  Why?  do  you  not  live 
across  the  water?  My  friend,  if  you  lived  on  this  side, 
I  should  be  an  assassin  ;  it  would  be  unjust  to  kill  you 
in  this  way ;  but  since  you  live  on  the  other,  I  am  brave, 
and  the  act  is  just. 

4.  Those  who  live  irregularl}'-,  say  to  those  who  live 
discreetly,  that  it  is  they  who  swerve  from  the  dic- 
tates of  nature,  and  that  they  themselves  live  according 
to  it;  as  those  who  are  in  a  vessel,  believe  that  the  peo- 
ple on  shore  are  receding  from  them.      Both  parties 


264  DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS. 

use  similar  language.  There  should  be  a  fix.ed  point 
to  decide  the  case.  The  port  settles  the  question  for 
those  in  the  vessel,  but  where  shall  we  find  this  fixed 
point  in  morals  ?* 

5.  As  fashion  makes  pleasure,  so  does  it  justice.  If 
men  really  knew  what  justice  is,  they  would  never 
have  admitted  this  commonest  of  all  maxims  through- 
out the  world,  that  each  should  follow  the  custom  of 
his  own  country.  Real  equity  would  have  subjugated 
all  nations,  by  its  native  brilliancy  ;  and  legislators 
would  not  have  taken  in  the  stead  of  this  invariable 
rule  of  right,  the  fancies  and  caprices  of  Persians  and 
Germans,  &c.  It  would  have  been  set  up  in  all  the 
states  of  the  earth,  and  at  all  times. 

6.  Justice  is  that  which  is  by  law  established  ;  and 
hence  all  our  established  laws  are  to  be  necessarily  ac- 
counted just,  because  they  are  established. 

7.  The  only  universal  rules  are,  the  laws  of  the  land 
in  ordinary  matters.  In  extraordinary  matters,  the 
majority  carries  it.  Why  is  this  ?  From  the  power 
that  exists  in  it. 

And  hence,  also,  kings  who  possess  an  extrinsic 
force,  do  not  follow  even  the  majority  of  their  minis- 
ters. 

8.  Undoubtedly  an  equality  of  rights  is  just;  but 
not  being  able  to  compel  men  to  be  submissive  to  jus- 
tice, legislators  have  made  them  obedient  to  force. 
Unable  to  fortify  justice,  they  have  justified  force  ;  so 
that  justice  and  force  uniting,  there  might  be  peace, 
for  that  is  the  sovereign  good, — swnmum  jus ^  sir.nma  in- 
juria. 

The  power  of  the  plurality  is  the  best  way  ;  because 
it  is  a  visible  power ;  and  it  has  force  to  command  obe- 
dience.    Yet  this  is  the  counsel  of  inferior  men. 

If  they  could,  they  should  have  put  power  into  the 
hands  of  justice  ;  but  since  power  will  not  let  itself  be 
used  as  men  please,  because  it  is  a  palpable  quality, 


The  ansv.^cr  of  M.  Pascal  ^vould  be,  in  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

s 


DETACHED  MO^IAL  THOUGHTS.  265 

while  justice  is  an  intellectual  quality,  of  which  they 
may  dispose  as  they  please,  they  have  placed  justice 
in  the  hands  of  power,  and  now  they  call  that  justice 
which  power  requires  to  be  observed. 

9  It  is  just,  that  whatever  is  just  should  be  observed. 
It  is  necessary  that  whatever  is  the  strongest  should  be 
obeyed.  Justice  without  power  is  ineflicient :  power 
without  justice  is  tyranny.  Justice  without  pov/er  is 
gainsayed,  because  there  are  alwaj^s  wicked  mefi. 
Power  without  justice  is  soon  questioned.  Justice  and 
power  must  be  brought  together,  so  that  whatever  is 
just  may  be  powerful,  and  whatever  is  powerful  may 
he  just. 

Justice  may  be  disputed;  but  power  speaks  pretty 
plainly,  and  without  dispute.  So  that  it  needs  but  to 
give  power  to  justice  ;  but  seeing  that  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  make  justice  powerful,  they  have  made  the 
powerful  just. 

10.  It  is  dangerous  to  tell  the  people  that  the  laws 
are  not  just;  for  they  only  obey  them  because  they  be- 
lieve them  to  be  just.  They  must  be  told  therefore  ajt 
the  same  time,  that  they  must  obey  them  as  laws;  as 
they  obey  their  superiors,  not  because  they  are  just, 
but  because  they  are  their  superiors.  If  jou  make 
them  comprehend  this,  you  prevent  all  sedition.  This 
is  the  true  definition  of  justice. 

11.  It  were  well  for  the  people  to  obey  laws  and 
customs,  because  they  are  laws ;  and  that  they  un- 
derstood that  this  made  them  just.  On  this  ground, 
th^y  would  never  deviate  from  them  :  whilst  on  the 
other  hand,  if  their  justice  is  to  rest  on  any  other  basis 
it  may  easily  be  brought  into  question,  and  then  the 
people  are  made  liable  to  revolt. 

12.  When  it  is  made  a  question,  whether  we  should 
make  war,  and  kill  so  many  men,  and  doom  so  many 
Spaniards  to  die,  it  is  one  man  only  who  decides,  and 
he  an  interested  party.  It  ought  to  be  a  third  and  an 
indifferent  person. 

13.  Language  such  as  this,  is  false  and  tyrannical: 
"  I  am  well-looking;  then  men   ought  to  fear  me:    I 


266  DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS. 

am  strong  ;  then  men  should  love  me."  Tyranny  is 
to  seek  to  obtain  that  by  one  means,  which  should  on- 
ly be  obtained  by  another.  We  owe  different  duties 
to  different  kinds  of  merit;  a  duty  of.  love  to  that 
which  is  amiable  ;  of  fear,  to  that  which  is  mighty ; 
of  teachableness,  to  the  learned,  &c.  This  duty  should 
be  done.  It  is  unjust  to  withhold  this.  It  is  unjust  to 
require  more.  And  it  savors  equally  of  error  and  of 
t^^ranny  to  say,  "■  He  has  no  might,  then  I  will  not  es- 
teem him.  He  has  no  talent,  therelore  I  will  not 
fear  him."  Tyranny  consists  in  the  desire  of  univer- 
sal dominion,  unwarranted  b}'  our  real  merit. 

14.  Their  are  vices  which  have  no  hold  upon  us, 
but  in  connection  with  others  ;  and  which,  when  you 
cut  down  the  trunk,  fall  like  the  branches. 

15.  When  malice  has  reason  on  its  side,  it  looks  forth 
bravelj^,  displays  that  reason  in  its  lustre.  When  aus- 
terity and  self-denial  have  not  realized  true  happiness 
.and  the  soul  returns  to  the  dictates  of  nature,  the  reac- 
tion is  fearfull}^  extravagant. 

16.  To  find  recreation  in  amusements,  is  not  happi- 
ness ;  for  tliis  joy  springs  from  alien  and  extrinsic 
sources,  and  is  therefore  dependent  upon,  and  subject 
to  interruption  by  a  thousand  accidents,  which  may 
minister  inevitable  affliction. 

17.  The  highest  style  of  mind  is  accused  of  folly,  as 
well  as  the  lowest.  Nothing  is  thoroughly  aj)proved 
but  mediocrity.  The  majority  has  brought  this  about; 
and  it  instantly  fixes  its  fangs  on  whatever  gets  bej^ond 
it  either  way.  I  will  not  resist  their  rule.  I  consent 
to  be  ranked  among  them  ;  and  if  I  object  to  be  placed 
at  the  low  extreme,  it  is  not  because  it  is  low,  but  be- 
cause it  is  the  extreme  ;  for  I  should  in  the  same  way 
refuse  to  be  placed  at  the  highest.  To  get  really  be- 
yond mediocriiy,  is  to  pass  the  limits  of  human  nature. 
The  dignity  of  the  human  soul,  lies  in  knowing  how 
to  keep  tl'.e  middle  course;  and  so  far  from  there  be- 
ing greatness  in  leaving  it,  true  greatness  consists  in 
never  deviating  from  it. 

18.  No  man  obtains  credit  with  the  world  for  talent 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS.  267 

in  poetry,  who  does  not  fairly  hang  out  the  sign  of  a 
poet;  or  for  a  talent  in  mathematics,  if  he  has  not  put 
up  the  sign  of  a  mathematician.  But  your  truly  honest 
men  have  recourse  to  no  such  expedients.  They  no 
more  play  themselves  off  for  poets,  than  for  embroid- 
erers. They  are  neither  called  poets  nor  geometers; 
but  they  are  at  home  in  all  these  matters.  Men  do 
not  make  out  specifically  what  they  are.  When  they 
enter  a  room,  they  speak  of  the  topic  then  in  discus- 
sion. They  do  not  discover  a  greater  aptness  for  one 
subject  than  for  another,  except  as  circumstances  call 
out  their  talent ;  for  to  such  persons  it  is  a  matter  of 
equal  indifference,  that  it  should  not  be  said,  "That 
man  talks  remarkably  well,"  when  conversational 
powers  are  not  the  point  in  question,  or  that  this 
should  be  said  of  them  when  it  is.  It  is  poor  praise, 
therefore,  when  a  man  is  pointed  out,  on  his  entering  a 
room,  as  a  great  poet,  or  that  hs  should  only  be  refer- 
red to,  where  the  merit  of  some  verses  is  to  be  con- 
sidered. Man  is  full  of  wants  ;  he  only  loves  those 
who  can  satistV  them.  "  He  is  a  good  mathematician  ; 
the}'  say,  "  but  then  I  must  be  bored  incessantly  with 
mathematics:"'  or,  "  That  man  thoroughly  compre- 
hends the  art  of  war  ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  make  war 
with  any  man."  Give  me,  then,  a  polite  man,  with 
general  talents,  to  meet  and  supply  my  necessities. 

19.  When  in  health,  we  cannot  at  all  judge  how  we 
would  act  in  sickness ;  but  when  sickness  comes,  then 
we  submit  freely  to  the  needful  discipline.  The  dis- 
ease itself  is  the  cause  of  this.  We  feel  then  no  lon- 
ger the  eager  thirst  for  amusements  and  visiting,  which 
originates  in  health,  and  which  is  quite  incompatible 
with  a  state  of  sickness.  Nature,  then,  gives  inclina- 
tions and  desires  conformed  to  our  present  state.  It 
is  only  the  fears  that  originate  with  ourselves,  and  not 
with  nature,  that  trouble  us ;  for  they  associate  with 
the  state  in  which  we  then  are,  the  feelings  of  a  state 
in  which  we  are  not. 

20.  Injunctions  to  humility,  are  sources  of  humilia- 
tion to  the  humble  ;  but  of  pride,  to   the    proud.       So 


268  DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS. 

also  the  languag-e  of  Pyrrhonism  and  doubt,  is  matter 
of  coiltirmation  to  those  who  believe.  Few  men 
speak  humbly  of  humility,  or  chastely  of  chastity, — * 
fe,w  of  scepticism  with  real  doubtfulness  of  mind.  We 
are  nothing  but  falsehood,  duplicity,  and  contradiction. 
We  hide  and  disguise  ourselves  from  ourselves. 

21.  Concealed  good  actions  are  the  most  estimable 
of  all.  When  I  discover  such  in  history,  they  delight 
me  much.  Yet  even  these  cannot  have  been  altogether 
hidden,  because  they  have  been  so  recorded  ;  and  even 
the  degree  in  which  they  have  come  to  light,  detracts 
from  iheir  merit,  for  their  finest  trait  is  the  wish  to 
conceal  them. 

22.  Your  sayer  of  smart  things,  has  a  bad  heart. 

23.  This /is  hateful;  and  those  who  do  not  re- 
nounce it,"  who  seek  no  further  than  to  cover  it,  are. 
always  hateful  also.  Not  at  all,  say  you,  for  if  we 
act  obligingly  to  all  men,  they  have  no  reason  to  hate 
us.  That  is  true,  if  there  were  nothing  hateful  in 
that  /,  but  the  inconvenience  which  it  administers. 
But  if  I  hate  it,  because  it  is  essentially  unjust,  because 
it  makes  itself  the  centre  of  every  thing,  I  shall  hate 
it  always.  In  fact,  (his  /  has  two  bad  qualities.  It  is 
essentially  unjust,  because  it  will  be  the  centre  of  all 
things;  it  is  an  annoj^ance  to  others,  because  it  will 
serve  itself  by  them;  for  each  individual  /is  the  ene- 
my, and  would  be  the  tyrant  of  all  others.  Now  you 
may  remove  the  annoyance,  but  not  the  radical  injus- 
tice, and  hence  you  cannot  make  it  acceptable  to  those 
who  abhor  its  injustice ;  you  may  make  it  pleasing  to 
the  unjust  who  no  longer  discover  their  enemy,  but 
3'ou  remain  unjust  3'ourself,  and  cannot  be  pleasing 
therefore  but  to  similar  persons. 

24.  1  cannot  admire  the  man  who  possesses  one  vir- 
tue in  high  perfection,  if  he  does  not,  at  the  same 
time,  possess  the  opposite  virtue  in  an  equal  degree  ; 
as  in  the  case  of  Epaminondas,  who  united  the  ex- 
tremes of  valor  and  of  meekness  ;  without  this,  it  is 
not  an  elevated,  but  a  fallen  character.  Greatness 
does  not  consist  in  being  at  one  extreme,  but  in  reach- 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS.  269 

ing  both  extremes  at  once,  and  occnpying-  all  the  in- 
termediate space.  Perhaps  this  is  in  no  case  more 
than  a  sudden  movement  of  the  soul,  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other,  and,  like  a  burning  brand,  whirled  quick- 
ly  round  in  a  circle,  it  is  never  but  in  one  point  of  its 
course  at  a  time.  Still  this  indicates  the  energy  of 
the  soul,  if  not  its  expansion. 

25.  Il"our  condition  were  really  happy,  there  were 
no  need  to  divert  us  from  thinking  of  it. 

26  I  have  spent  much  time  in  the  study  of  the  ab- 
stract sciences;  but  the  paucity  of  persons  with  whom 
you  can  communicate  on  such  subjects,  disgusted  me 
with  them.  When  I  began  to  study  man,  I  saw  that 
these  abstract  sciences  are  not  suited  to  him,  and  that 
in  diving  into  them,  I  wandered  further  from  my  real 
object,  than  those  who  knew  them  not,  and  I  forgave 
them  for  not  having  attended  to  these  things.  1  ex- 
pected then,  however,  that  I  should  lind  some  com- 
panions in  the  study  of  man,  since  it  was  so- specifical- 
ly a  duty.  I  was  in  error.  There  are  fewer  students 
of  man,  than  of  geometry."^ 

27.  When  all  things  move  similarly,  nothing  moves 
apparently — as  on  board  a  ship.  When  all  things  glide 
similarly  to  disorder,  nothing  seems  to  be  going  wrong. 
He  who  stops,  considers  the  rapid  recession  of  others, 
an  immoveable  point. 

28.  Philosophers  boast  of  having  arranged  all  moral 
duties  in  a  certain  classification.  But  why  divide 
them  into  four,  rather  than  into  sis  divisions.  Why 
make  four  sorts  of  virtues  rather  than  ten.  Why 
range  them  under  the  general  heads  of  abstine  and  sus- 
tine^  rather  than  any  others.  But  then,  say  you,  here 
they  are  all  reduced  to  a  single  word.  Well,  but  that 
is  quite  useless  without  explanation ;  and  as  soon  as 
you  begin  to   explain,  and    you  develope  the    general 


*  Pascal  was  correct.  Of  the  thousands  who  write  andhar ' 
angue  upon  the  study  of  human  nature,  not  more  than  one  in 
a  hundred  knows  what  he  means.  A.  E. 

22* 


2^70  DETACHED  MORAL    THOUGHTS. 

precept  which  contains  all  the  others,  they  issue  in  the 
same  confusion  that  at  first  jou  wished  to  avoid,  and 
thus,  in  reducing-  them  to  one,  you  hide  and  nullify 
them;  and  to  be  made  known,  they  must  still  come 
forth  in  their  native  confusion.  Nature-  has  given 
each  an  independent  subsistence  ;  and  thoug-h  you  may 
thus  arrange  the  one  within  the  other,  they  must  sub- 
sist independently  of  each  other.  So  that  these  divis- 
ions and  technical  terms  have  little  use,  but  to  assist 
the  memorj^,  and  to  serve  as  guides  to  the  several  du- 
ties wliicli  they  include. 

29.  To  administer  reproof  with  profit,  and  to  shew 
another  that  he  deceives  himself,  we  should  notice  on 
what  side  he  really  has  considered  the  thing* — for  on 
that  side  he  generally  has  a  right  impression — and  ad- 
mit there  the  accuracy  of  his  views.  This  will  please 
him,  for  he  then  perceives  that  as  far  as  he  did  see, 
he  was  not  in  error,  but  that  he  failed  only  in  not  ob- 
serving the  matter  on  all  sides.  Now,  a  man  is  not 
ashamed  of  not  perceiving  every  thing;  but  he  does 
not  like  to  blunder.  And  perliaps  this  arises ^from  the 
fact,  that  naturally  the  mind  cannot  be  deceived  on  the 
side  on  which  it  looks  at  things,  any  more  than  the 
senses  can  give  a  false  report, 

30.  A  man's  virtue  should  not  be  measured  by  his 
occasional  exertions,  but  by  his  ordinarj'^  doings. 

31..  The  great  and  the  little  are  subject  to  the  same 
accidents,  vexations,  and  passions  ;  but  the  one  class 
are  at  the  end  of  the  spoke  of  the  wheel,  and  the  oth- 
er near  the  centre :  and  consequently,  they  are  differ- 
ently agitated  by  the  same  impulses. 

32.  Though  men  have  no  interests  in  what  they  are 
saying,  it  will  not  do  to  infer  from  that  absolutely,  that 
they  are  not  guilty  of  falsehood  ;  for  there  are  some 
who  lie,  simply  for  lying  sake. 

33.  The  example  ofchastity  in  Alexander,  has  not 
availed  to  the  same  degree  to  make  men  chaste,  as  his 
drunkenness  has  to  make  them  intemperate.  Men  are 
not  ashamed  not  to  be  so  virtuous  as  he;  and  it  seems 
excusable  not  to  be  more  vicious.     A  man  thinks  that 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS*  271 

he  is  not  altogether  sunk  in  the  vices  of  the  crowd, 
when  lie  follows  the  viciouS'  example  of  great  men; 
but  he  forgets  that  in  this  respect  they  are  associated 
with  the  multitude.  He  is  linked  with  such  men  at 
the  same  point,  at  which  they  are  linked  with  the  peo- 
ple. However  great  they  may  be,  they  are  associated 
at  some  point  with  the  mass  of  mankind.  They  are 
not  altogether  suspended  in  mid  air,  and  insulated  from 
society.  If  they  are  greater  than  we,  it  is  only  that 
their  heads  are  higher  ;  but  their  feet  are  as  low  as 
ours.  They  are  all  on  the  same  level — ^they  tread 
the  same  earth  ;  and,  at  this  end  they  are  brought 
equally  low  with  ourselves,  with  infants,  and  with  the 
brutes  that  perish. 

34.  It  is  the  contest  that  deliglits  us  ;  not  the  victory. 
We  are  pleased  with  the  combat  of  animals,  but  not 
with  the  victor  tearing  the  vanquished.  What  is 
sought  for  but  the  crisis  of  victory  ?  and  the  instant  it 
comes,  it  brings  satiety.  Itis  the  same  in  pla}'',  and 
the  same  on  the  search  for  truth.  We  love  to  watch 
in  arguments  the  conflict  of  opinions  ;  but  as  for  the 
discovered  truth,  we  do  not  care  to  look  at  that.  To 
see  it  with  pleasure,  we  must  see  it  gradually  emerg- 
ing from  the  disputation.  It  is  the  same  with  the  pas- 
sions; the  struggle  of  two  contending  passions  has 
great  interest ;  but  the  dominion  of  one  is  mere  brutali- 
ty. We  do  not  seek  for  things  themselves,  but  for  the 
search  after  them.  So  on  the  stage,  scenes  without  anx- 
iety, miseries  without  hope,  and  merely  brutal  indul- 
gencies,  are  accounted  vapid  and  uninteresting. 

35.  Men  are  not  taught  to  be  honest,  but  they  are 
taught  every  thing  else  ;  and  yet  they  pique  them- 
selves on  this,  above  all  things.  They  boast  then 
only  of  knowing  the  only  thing  which  they  do  not  learn. 

36.  How  weak  was  Montaigne's  plan  for  exhibiting 
himself  I  and  that  not  incidently  and  contrar}^  to  his 
avowed  maxims,  as  most  men  contrive  to  betray  them- 
selves;  but  in  accordance  with  his  rule,  and  as  his  first 
and  principal  design.  For  to  speak  fooleries  accident- 
ally, and  as  a  matter  of  weakness,  is  every    one's  lot ; 


272  DETACHED  MORAL    THOUGHTS. 

bat  to  do  so  designedly,  and  to  speak  such  as    he   did, 
is  beyond  all  bounds. 

37.  Pity  for  the  unfortunate  is  no  proof  of  virtue  ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  found  desirable  to  make  this  de- 
monstration of  humanity,  and  to  acquire,  at  no  expense, 
the  reputation  of  tenderness.  Pity  therefore  is  little 
worth. 

38.  Would  he  who  could  boast  the  friendship  of  the 
Kings  of  England,  and  of  Poland,  and  the  Qaeen  of 
Sweden,  have  believed  that  he  might  look  through 
the  world  in  vain  for  a  home  and  a  shelter?*. 

39.  Things  have  various  qualities,  and  the  mind  va- 
rious inclinations ;  for  nothing  presents  itself  simply 
to  the  mind,  neither  does  the  mind  apply  itself  simply 
to  any  subject.  Hence,  the  same  thing  will  at  differ- 
ent times  produce  tears  or  laughter. 

40.  There  are  men  of  different  classes,  the  power- 
ful, the  elegant,  the  kind,  the  pious,  of  which  each 
one  may  reign  in  his  own  sphere,  but  not  elsewhere. 
They  come  sometimes  into  collision,  and  contend  who 
shall  have  the  dominion  ;  and  most  unwisely,  for  their 
mastery  is  in  different  matters.  They  do  not  under- 
stand one  another.  They  err  in  seeking  an  universal 
dominion.  But  nothing  can  accomplish  this,  not  even 
force.  Force  can  do  nothing  in  the  realms  of  science; 
it  has  no  power  but  over  external  actions. 

41.  Ferox  gens  nullam  esse  vitam  sine  armis  putat. 
They  ptrefer  death  to  peace  :  others  prefer  death  to 
war.  Every  variet}^  of  opinion  may  be  preferred  to 
that  life — the  love  of  which  appears  so  strong  and  so 
natural. 

42.  How  difficult  it  is  to  propose  a  matter  to  another 
man's  judgment,  without  corrupting  his  judgment  by 
the  manner  in  which  it  is  proposed.  If  we  say,  "  I 
like  this,"  or,  "  I  think  this  obscure,"  we   either  en- 


*  The  reference  is  to  the  contemporary  sovereigns,  Charles  I. 
of  England,  John  Casiniir  of  Poland,  and  Christina  Queen  of 
Sweden. 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS.  273 

tice  the  imaginatioa  that  way,  or  produce  irritatioQ 
and  opposition.  It  is  more  correct  to  say  nothing, 
and  then  he  will  judge  as  the  matter  really  is;  that  is, 
as  it  is  then,  and  according  as  the  other'  circumstances 
over  which  we  have  no  control,  may  bias  him  ;  if 
even  our  very  silence  has  not  its  effect  according  to  the 
aspect  of  the  whole,  and  the  interpretation  which  the 
man's  present  humor  may  put  upon  it,  or  according  to 
the  conjecture  he  may  form  from  the  expression  of 
my  countenance,  and  the  tone  of  my  voice  ;  so  easy  is 
it  to  bias  the  judgment  from  its  natural  and  unfettered 
conclusion,  or  rather  so  few  men  are  there  of  resolute 
and  independent  mind. 

43.  Montaigne  is  right.  Custom  should  be  followed 
because  it  is  custom,  and  because  it  is  found  establishedj 
without  inquiring  whether  it  is  reasonable  or  not;  un- 
derstanding of  course  those  matters  which  are  not 
contrary  to  natural  or  divine  right,  it  is  true  that  people 
follow  custom  for  this  only  reason,  that  they  believe  it 
to  be  just ;  without  which,  they  would  follow  it  no 
longer,  for  no  one  would  be  subjected  to  any  thing  but 
reason  and  justice.  Custom  without  this  would  be  ac- 
counted tj'ranny  ;  but  the  dominion  of  reason  and  jus- 
tice is  no  more  tyrannous  than  that  of  pleasure. 

44.  The  knowledge  of  external  things  will  not  con- 
sole us  in  the  days  of  affliction,  for  the  ignorance  of 
moral  science  :  but  attainments  in  moral  science,  will 
console  us  under  the  ignorance  of  external  things. 

45.  Time  deadens  our  afflictions  and  our  strifes,  be- 
cause we  change  and  become  almost  as  it  were  other 
persons.  Neither  the  offending  nor  the  offended  party 
remains  the  same.  Like  a  people  that  have  been  ir- 
ritated, and  then  revisited  two  generations  after. 
They  are  yet  the  French  nation,  but  not  what. they 
were. 

46.  What  is  the  condition  of  man?  Instabilit}',  dis- 
satisfaction, distress.  He  who  would  thoroughly  know 
the  vanity  of  man,  has  only  to  consider  the  causes  and 


274  DETACHED  MORAL  1H0UGHTS. 

the  effects  of  love.  The  cause  is  a  je  nc  sais  quoi^^ 
an  indefinable  trifle  ;  the  effects  are  monstrous.  Yet 
this  indescribable  something  set  the  whole  earth — 
princes,  armies,  multitudes,  in  motion.  If  the  nose  of 
Cleopatra  had  been  a  little  shorter,  it  would  have 
changed  the  history  of  the  world. 

47.  Caesar  appears  to  me  too  old  to  have  amused 
himself  with  the  conquest  of  the  world.  Such  sport 
might  do  for  Alexander,  an  ardent  youth,  whom  it  was 
difficult  to  curb  ;  but  Caesar's  day  had  gone  by. 

48.  Fickleness  has  its  rise  in  the  experience  of  the 
fallaciousness  of  present  pleasures,  and  in  the  ignor- 
ance of  the  vanity  of  absent  pleasures. 

49.  Princes  and  kings  must  play  themselves  some- 
times. They  cannot  be  always  upon  their  thrones. 
They  become  weary.  Greatness  to  be  realized,  must 
be  occasionally  abandoned. 

50.  My  humor  depends  but  little  on  the  weather.  1 
have  my  cloud  and  my  sunshine  with  me.  Even  pros- 
perity or  failure  in  my  affairs  affects  me  little,  t 
sometimes  rise  spontaneously  superior  to  misfortune  ; 
and  from  the  mere  joy  of  superiority,  1  get  the  better 
of  it  nobly.  Whilst  at  other  times,  in  the  very  tide 
of  good  fortune,  I  am  heartless  and  fretful. 

51.  Sometimes  in  the  very  writing  down  my  thought, 
it  escapes  me.  But  this  teaches  me  my  weakness, 
which  1  am  ever  forgetting.  And  this  instructs  me 
therefore  as  much  as  my  forgotten  thoughts  would 
have  done  ;  for  what  I  ought  always  to  be  learning,  is 
my  own  nothingness. 

52.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  there  are  men  in  the 
world  who,  having  renounced  all  the  laws  of  God  and 
man,  have  made  laws  ibr  themselves,  which  they 
strictly  obey ;  as  robbers,  &,c. 


*  This  is  a  very  common  expression  in  France.  1  believe  it 
owes  its  classical  currency,  if  not  its  origin,  to  Corneille,  the 
celebrated  dramatist.  Some  of  the  readc^rs  of  this  work,  may 
be  willinir  to  learn  tliat  it  sis:nifies — /  know  not  ivhal.  A.   E. 


DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS.  275 

53.  "  This  is  my  dog,"  say  the  children  ;  ''  that  sun- 
ny seat  is  mine."  There  is  the  beginning  and  exem- 
plification of  the  usurpation  of  the  whole  earth. 

54.  You  have  a  bad  manner:  excuse  me  if  you  please. 
Without  the  apology  I  should  not  have  known  that 
there  was  any  harm  done.  Begging  your  pardon,  the 
"  excuse  me,"  is  all  the  mischief. 

55.  We  scarcely  ever  think  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
but  as  grave  and  serious  looking  men,  dressed  in  long 
robes.  They  were  good  honest  fellows,  who  laughed 
with  their  friends  as  others  do  ;  and  when  they  made 
their  laws  and  the  treatises  on  politics,  it  was  to  play 
and  divert  themselves.  It  was  probably  the  least  phil- 
osophical and  serious  part  of  their  lives.  The  most 
philosophical  was  the  living  simply  and  tranquilly. 

56.  Man  delights  in  malice  ;  but  it  is  not  against  the 
unfortunate,  it  is  against  the  prosperous  proud  ;  and  we 
deceive  ourselves  if  we  think  otherwise.  Martial's 
epigram  on  the  blind,  is  utterly  worthless,  for  it  does 
not  comfort  them ;  it  only  adds  another  spark  to  the 
glory  of  the  author  ;  all  that  makes  only  for  the  author 
is  worthless.  Amhitiosa  recidet  ornarnenta.  He  should 
write  to  please  men  of  a  tender  and  humane  spirit, 
and  not  your  barbarous  inhuman  souls. 

57.  These  compliments  do  not  please  me  :  "  I  have 
given  you  much  trouble."  "  I  fear  to  weary  you." — 
"  I  fear  that  this  is  too  long."  Things  either  hurry 
me  away,  or  irritate  me. 

59.  A  true  friend  is  such  a  blessing,  even  to  great 
men,  in  order  that  he  may  speak  well  of  them,  and  de- 
fend them  in  their  absence,  that  they  should  leave  no 
stone  unturned  to  get  one.  But  they  should  choose 
warily;  for  if  they  lavish  all  their  efforts  on  a  fool, 
whatever  good  he  says  of  them  will  go  for  nothing; 
and  in  fact  he  will  not  speak  w^ell  of  them,  if  he  feels 
his  comparative  weakness  ;  for  he  has  not  any  authori- 
iy^  and  consequently  he  will  slander  for  company's 
sake. 

59.  Do  you  wish  men  to  speak  well  of  you?  Then 
never  speak  well  of  yourself. 


276  DETACHED  MORAL  THOUGHTS. 

60.  Do  not  laug-h  at  the  men  who  seek  respect 
through  their  duties  and  official  stations  ;  for  we  regard 
no  man  but  for  his  acquired  qualities.  All  men  hate 
one  another  naturallj'.  I  hold  it  a  fact,  that  if  men  knew 
exactly  what  one  sajs  of  the  other,  there  would  not  be 
four  friends  in  the  world.  This  appears  from  the 
quarrels  to  which  occasional  indiscreet  reports  give 
rise. 

61.  Death  is  more  easy  to  endure  without  thinking 
about  it,  than  the  thoughts  of  death  without  the  risk 
of  it. 

62.  It  is  wonderful  indeed,  that  a  thing  so  visible  as 
the  utter  vanity  of  this  world,  should  be  so  little  known, 
and  that  it  should  be  so  uncommon  and  surprising  to 
hear  any  one  condemn  as  folly,  the  search  after  its 
honors. 

He  who  does  not  see  the  vanity  of  this  world,  is 
vain  indeed.  For  in  fact,  who  does  not  see  it,  but" 
those  young  persons  who  are  hurried  along  .in  the  bus- 
tle and  din  of  its  amusements,  without  a  thought  of 
the  future  ?  But  take  away  those  diversions,  and  you 
will  see  them  wither  with  eiimii.  They  are  then  feel- 
ing their  emptiness,  without  really  knowing  it :  for 
surely  it  is  a  very  wretched  state,  to  sink  into  unbear- 
able sadness,  as  soon  as  we  cease  to  be,  diverted,  and 
are  left  free  to  think. 

63.  Almost  every  thing  is  partly  true  and  partly 
false  :  not  sq  with  essential  truth.  It  is  perfectly  pure 
and  true.  This  admixture  in  the  world,  dishonors  and 
annihilates  truth.  There  is  nothing  true,  if  we  mean 
pure  essential  truth.  We  may  sa}^  that  homicide  is 
bad^  because  that  which  is  evil  and  false  is  well  under- 
stood by  us.  But  what  can  we  say  is  good  ?  Celibac}^  ? 
I  say  no  !  for  the  world  would  terminate.  Marriage? 
No  ;  for  continency  is  better.  Not  to  kill  ?  No;  for 
disorders  would  increase,  a/id  the  wicked  would  mur- 
der the  good.  To  kill  ?  No  ;  for  that  destroys  na- 
ture. We  have  nothing  true  or  good,  but  whatis  only 
partially  so,  and  mixed  with  evil  and  untruth. 

64.  Evil  is  easily  discovered,-  there  is  an  infinite  va- 


I 

THOUGHTS  ON  PHILOSOPHICAL  277 

riety.  Good  is  almost  unique.  But  some  kinds  of  evil 
are  almost  as  difficult  to  discover,  as  that  which  we 
call  ^ood  ;  and  often  particular  evil  of  this  class  pas- 
ses for  good.  Nay,  it  needs  even  a  certain  greatness 
of  soul  to  attain  to  this,  as  it  does  to  attain  to  that 
which  is  good. 

65.  The  ties  which  link  the  mutual  respects  of  one 
to  another,  in  general,  are  the  bonds  of  necessity. 
And  there  must  be  different  degrees  of  them,  since  all 
men  seek  to  have  dominion  ;  and  all  cannot,  though 
some  can  attain  to  it.  But  the  bonds  which  secure  our 
respect  to  this  or  that  individual  ijp  particular,  are  the 
bonds  of  the  imagination. 

66.  We  are  so  unhapp}^,  that  we  cannot  take  pleas- 
ure in  any  pursuit,  but  under  the  condition  of  expe- 
riencing distress,  if  it  does  not  succeed,  which  may 
happen  with  a  thousand  things,  and  does  happen  every 
hour.  He  who  shall  find  the  secret  of  enjoying  the 
good,  without  verging  to  the  opposite  evil,  has  hit 
the  mark  for  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THOUGHTS  ON  PHILOSOPHICAL  AND  LITEP.ART  SUBJECTS. 

The  more  enlarged  is  our  own  mind,  the  greater 
number  we  discover  of  men  of  originality.  Your 
common-place  people  see  no  difference  between  one 
man  and  another. 

2.  A  man  may  be  possessed  of  sound  sense,  yet  not 
be  able  to  apply  it  equally  to  all  subjects;  for  there 
are  evidently  men  who  are  highly  judicious  in  certain 
lines  of  thought,  but  who  fail  in  others.  The  one 
class  of  men  are  adapted  to  draw  conclusions  from  a 
few  principles;  the  other,  to  draw  conclusions  in  cases 
which  involve  a  great  variety  of  principles.  For  in- 
stance, the  one  understands  well  the  phenomena  of 
water;  with  reference  to  which,  the  principles  are 
23 


278  THOUGHTS  ON  PHILOSOPHICAL 

few,  but  the  results  of  which  are  so  extremely  delicate, 
that  none  but  a  peculiarly  acute  intellect  can  trace 
them  ;  and  most  probably,  these  men  never  would 
have  been  great  geometricians,  because  geometry  in- 
volves a  great  many  principles  ;  and  that  the  nature 
of  a  mind  may  be  such,  that  it  can  trace  a  few 
principles  up  to  their  extreme  results ;  yet  not  ade- 
quately comprehend  those  things  in  which  a  multitude 
of  principles  are  combined. 

There  are  then  two  sorts  of  minds;  the  one  fathoms 
rapidly  and  deeply  the  principles  of  things,  and  this  is 
the  spirit  of  accurate  discrimination  ;  the  other. com- 
prehends a  great  many  principles  without  confusing 
them,  and  this  is  the  spirit  of  mathematics.  The  one 
is  energy  and  clearness  of  mind  ;  the  other  is  expan- 
sion of  mind.  Now,  the  one  may  exist  without  the 
other.  The  mind  may  be  powerful,  but  narrow  ;  or 
it  may  be  expanded  and  feeble. 

There  is  much  ditference  between  the  geometrical 
mind,  and  the  acute  mind.  The  principles  of  the  one 
are  clear  and  palpable,  but  removed  from  common 
usages ;  so  that,  lor  want  of  the  habit,  it  is  ditbcult 
to  bring  the  attention  down  to  such  things  ;  but  as  far 
as  the  attention  is  given  to  them,  the  principles  of 
those  things  are  plainly  seen,  and  would  need  a  mind 
altogether  in  error,  to  reason  falsely  on  such  common- 
place matters  ;  so  that,  it  is  almost  impossible  that  the 
principles  of  such  things  should  not  be  ascertained. 

But  in  the  case  of  the  acute  mind,  the  principles  in 
which  it  is  conversant  are  found  in  common  usage,  and 
before  the  eyes  of  all  men.  You  have  but  to  turn 
your  head  without  effort,  and  they  are  beibre  you. 
The  only  essential  point  is  a  right  perception  ;  for  the 
principles  are  so  interwoven  and  so  numerous,  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  but  that  some  should  be  lost  sight 
of  Now,  the  omission  of  one  principle  leads  to  er- 
ror; hence  it  needs  a  very  accurate  perception  to  as- 
certain all  the  principles,  and  then  a  sound  judgment 
not  to  reason  falsely  on  known  principles. 

All  the  geometricians  would  be  acute  men,  if  they 


AND  LITERARY  SUBJECTS.  279 

possessed  this  keenness  of  perception,  for  they  cannot 
reason  falsely  on  the  principles  which  they  perceive  ; 
and  the  men  of  acute  mind  would  be  geometricians,  if 
they  could  not  turn  their  attention  to  the  less  prominent 
principles  of  geometry. 

The  reason  then  why  some  men  of  acute  intellect 
are  not  geometers  is,  that  they  cannot  turn  their  atten- 
tion to  the  principles  of  geometry;  but  the  reason  why 
geometers  have  not  this  acuteness  is,  that  they  do  not 
perceive  what  is  before  their  eyes,  and  that  being  ac- 
customed to  the  plain  and  palpable  principles  of  geom- 
etry, and  never  reasoning  till  they  have  well  ascertain- 
ed, and  handled  their  principles,  they  are  lost  in  these 
matters  of  more  acute  perception,  where  the  principles 
cannot  be  so  easily  ascertained.  They  are  seen  with 
difficulty, — they  are  felt  rather  than  seen.  It  is 
scarcely  possible  to  make  them  evident  to  those  who 
do  not  feel  them  of  themselves.  They  are  so  delicate 
and  so  multitudinous,  that  it  requires  a  very  keen  and 
ready  intellect  to  feel  them;  and  that  generally,  with- 
out being  at  all  able  to  demonstrate  them  in  order,  as 
in  geometry  ;  because  these  principles  cannot  be  so 
gathered,  and  it  were  an  endless  labor  to  undertake 
it.  The  thing  must  be  seen  at  once,  at  a  glance,  and 
not  by  a  process  of  reasoning  ;  at  least,  to  a  certain 
degree.  And  hence  it  is  rarely  the  case,  that  geome- 
ters are  acute  men,  or  acute  men  geometers  ;  because 
geometers  will  treat  these  nicer  matters  geometrically, 
and  thus  make  themselves  ridiculous ;  they  will  begin 
with  definitions,  and  then  go  to  principles — a  mode 
that  will  not  answer  in  this  sort  of  reasoning.  It  is  not 
that  the  mind  does  not  take  this  method,  bnt  it  does 
so  silently,  naturally,  without  the  forms  of  art — for  all 
men  are  capable  of  the  expressson  of  it ;  but  this  feel- 
ing of  it  is  the  talent  of  few. 

And  the  acute  mind,  on  the  contrary,  accustomed  to 
judge  at  a  glance,  is  so  astonished  when  they  present 
to  it  a  series  of  propositions,  where  it  understands  but 
little,  and  when  to  enter  into  them,  it  is  necessary  to 
go  previously  through  a  host   of  definitions    and    dry 


280  THOUGHTS  ON  PHILOSOPHICAL 

principles,  that  not  having' been  accustomed  thus  to 
examine  in  detail,  it  turns  away  in  disgust.  There  are, 
however,  many  weaker  minds,  which  are  neither 
acute  nor  geometrical. 

Geometers,  then,  who  are  exclusively  geometers, 
possess  a  sound  judgment,  provided  only  that  the  mat- 
ter be  properly  explained  to  them  by  derinitions  and 
principles;  othervvise  they  go  wrong  altogether,  for 
they  only  judge  rightly  upon  principles  which  are 
clearly  laid  down  for  them  ;  and  your  acute  men,  who 
are  exclusively  so,  have  no  patience  to  go  down  into 
jSrst  principles  in  matteis  of  speculation  and  imagina- 
tion, which  they  have  never  seen  in  use  in  the  world. 

3.  It  often  happens,  that  to  prove  certain  things, 
men  adduce  such  examples,  that  the}^  might  actually 
take  the  things  themselves  to  prove  the  examples  ; 
which  does  not  fail  of  ])roducing  an  effect ;  for  as  they 
believe  always  that  the  difficulty  lies  in  the  thing  to 
be  proved,  the  example,  of  coirrse,  appears  more  intel- 
ligible. Thus,  when  ihey  wish  to  illustrate  a  general 
principle,  they  exhibit  the  rule  of  a  particular  case. 
But  if  they  wish  to  illustrate  a  particular  case,  they 
begin  with  the  general  rule.  They  always  find  the 
thing  to  be  proved  obscure,  but  the  medium  of  proof 
clear  and  intelligible  ;  for  when  it  is  purposed  to  prove 
a  point,  the  mind  pre-occupies  itself  with  the  thought, 
that  it  is  obscure  and  diflicult.  Whilst,  on  the  con- 
trar}',  it  assumes  that  the  mode  b}^  which  it  is  to  be 
proved  will  be  clear,  and  consequently,  under  that  im- 
pression, comprehends  it  easily. 

4.  All  our  reasonings,  are  compelled  to  yield  to 
feeling.  A  mere  imagination,  however,  is  both  simi- 
lar and  contrary  to  feeling. — Similar,  because  it  does 
not  reason, — contrary,  because  it  is  false  :  so  that  it  is 
difficult  to  distinguish  between  these  contrarieties. 
One  man  says  that  my  feeling  is  a  mere^fancy,  and 
that  his  fancy  is  a  real  feeling  ;  and  I  say  the  same  of 
him.  We  need  then  a  criterion  :  reason  offers  itself; 
but  it  may  be  biassed  to  either  side,  and  hence  there 
is  no  fixed  rule. 


AND  LITERARY  SUBJECTS.  281 

5.  They  who  judge  of  a  work  by  rule,  are,  with 
respect  to  those  who  do  not,  as  those  who  possess  a 
watch,  with  respect  to  those  who  do  not.  One  says, 
We  have  been  here  now  two  hours.  Another  says.  It 
is  but  three  qarters  of  an  hour.  I  look  at  my  watch, 
and  say  to  ©ne,  You  grow  weary ;  and  to  the  other, 
Time  flies  fast  with  you,  for  it  is  just  an  hour  and  a 
half;  and  I  smile  at  those  who  tell  me,  that  time  lin- 
gers with  me,  and  that  I  judge  by  imagination.  They 
know  not  that  I  judge  by  my  watch. 

6.  There  are  men  who  speak  well,  but  do  npt  write 
well.  The  place,  the  circumstances,  &,c.  ^excite  them, 
and  elicit  from  their  mind,  more  than  they  would  find 
in  it  without  that  extraordinary  stimulus. 

7.  That  which  is  good  in  Montaigne,  can  only  be  ac- 
quired with  difficulty:  that  which  is  evil,  (I  except  his 
morals,)  might  be  corrected  in  a  moment,  if  we  consid- 
er that  he  tells  too  many  stories,  and  speaks  too  much 
of  himself 

8.  It  is  a  serious  fault,  to  follow  the  exception  in- 
stead of  the  rule.  "We  ought  to  be  rigidly  opposed  to 
the  exception.  Yet  since  it  is  certain  that  there 
are  exceptions  to  the  rule,  we  should  judge  rigidly, 
but  justly. 

9.  There  are  men  who  would  have  an  author  never 
speak  of  the  things  of  which  others  have  spoken  ;  and 
if  he  does,  they  accuse  him  of  saying  nothing  new. 
But  if  the  subjects  are  not  new,  the  dispositions  of 
them  may  be.  When  we  play  at  tennis,  both  play 
with  the  same  ball,  but  one  may  play  it  better  than 
the  other.  They  might  just  as  well  accuse  us  of  using 
old  words,  as  if  the  same  thoughts  difl'erently  arrang- 
ed, would  not  form  a  different  discourse;  just  as  the 
same  words  differently  arranged  would  express  diffe- 
rent thoughts. 

10.  We  are  more  forcibly  persuaded,  in  general  by 
the  reasons  which  we  ourselves  search  out,  than  by 
those  which  are  suggestions  of  the  minds  of  others. 

11.  The  mind  makes  progress  naturally,    and    the 

23* 


282  THOUGHTS  ON  PHILOSOPHICAL. 

will  naturally  clings  to   objects ;  so  that  in   default    of 
right  objects,  it  will  attach  itself  to  wrong  ones. 

12.  Those  great  efforts  of  mind  to  which  the  soul 
occasional!}^  reaches,are  such  as  it  cannot  habitually 
maintain.  It  reaches  them  by  a  sudden  bound,  but 
only  to  fall  again. 

13.  Man  is  neither  an  angel  nor  a  brute  ;  and  the 
mischief  is,  they  who  would  play  the  angel,  often  play 
the  brute. 

14.  Only  discover  a  man's  ruling  passion,  and  you 
are  sure*  of  pleasing  him  ;  and  yet  each  one  has  in  the 
very  notion  that  he  has  formed  of  good,  some  phanta- 
sies which  are  opposed  to  his  real  interest;  and  this 
is  a  strange  incongruity,  which  often  disconcerts  those 
who  w^ould  gain  his  affection. 

15.  A  horse  does  not  seek  to  be  admired  by  its  com- 
panion. There  is  to  be  sure,  a  sort  of  emulation  in 
the  course,  but  this  leads  to  nothing ;  for  in  the  stable 
the  clumsiest  and  worst  made,  will  not  on  that  account 
give  up  his  corn  to  the  others.  It  is  not  so  among 
men.  Their  virtue  is  not  satisfied  with  itself;  and 
they  are  not  satisfied,  unless  they  obtain  by  it  some 
advantage  over  others. 

16.  We  injure  the  mind  and  the  moral  sentiments  in 
the  same  way.  The  mind  and  the  moral  sentiments 
are  formed  by  conversation.  The  good  or  the  evil 
improve  or  injure  them  respectively.  It  is  of  impor- 
tance, then,  to  know  how  to  choose  well,  so  as  to  ben- 
efit, and  not  injure  them.  But  we  are  unable  to  make 
this  choice,  unless  the  mind  is  already  formed  and  not 
injured.  There,  then,  is  a  circle,  from  which  happy 
are  they  who  escape  ! 

17.  When  among  those  things  in  nature,  the  knowl- 
edge of  which  is  not  absolutely  necessar}^,  there  are 
some,  the  truth  of  which  we  do  not  know,  it  is  per- 
haps not  to  be  lamented,  that  frequently  one  common 
error  obtains,  which  fixes  most  minds.  As  for  exam- 
ple, the  moon,  to  which  we  attribute  the  change  of 
weather,  and  the  fluctuations  of  disease,  &:c.  For  one 
of  man's  greatest  evils  is  a  restless  curiosity  after  the 


AND  LITERARY  SUBJECTS.  283 

things  which  he  cannot  know ;  and  I  know  not  wheth- 
er it  is  not  a  less  evil  to  he  in  error  on  such  subjects, 
than  to  be  indulging-  an  idle  curiosity. 

18.  If  the  lightning  had  fallen  upon  low  places,  the 
poets  and  other  men  who  reason  only  from  such  anal- 
ogies, would  have  failed  of  their  best  proofs. 

19.  Mind  has  its  own  order  of  proceeding,  which  is 
by  principles  and  demonstrations :  the  heart  has 
another.  We  do  not  prove  that  we  ought  to  be  loved, 
by  setting  forth  systematically  the  causes  of  love  ; 
that  would  be  ridiculous. 

Jesus  Christ  and  St.  Paul  have  rrfther  followed  this 
way  of  the  heart,  which  is  the  way  of  charity,  than 
that  of  the  intellect;  for  their  chief  end  was  not  mere- 
ly to  instruct,  but  to  animate  and  warm.  St,  Augustine 
does  the  same.  This  mode  consists  chiefly  in  a  di- 
gression to  each  several  point,  which  has  a  relation  ^to 
the  end,  so  as  to  aim  at  that  end  always. 

20.  There  are  men  who  put  an  artiticial  covering 
on  all  nature.  There  is  no  king  with  them,  but  an 
august  monarch  :  no  Paris,  but  the  capital  of  the  em- 
pire. There  are  places  where  we  must  call  Paris, 
Paris ;  and  others  where  we  must  call  it,  the  capital 
of  the  empire. 

21.  When  in  a  composition  we  find  a  word  occur- 
ring more  than  once,  and  on  an  attempt  to  alter  it,  it 
is  found  so  suitable  that  a  change  would  weaken  the 
sense  ;  it  should  be  left.  To  remove  it,  is  the  work 
of  a  blind  envy,  which  cannot  discern  that  this  repeti- 
tion is  not,  in  this  case,  a  fault;  for  there  is  no 
absolute  general  rule. 

22.  Those  who  make  antitheses  by  forcing  the 
sense,  are  like  men  who  make  false  windows  for  the 
sake  of  symmetry.  Their  rule  is  not  to  speak  justly, 
but  to  make  accurate  figures. 

23.  .One  language  is  with  respect  to  another  a  cy- 
pher, in  which  words  stand  for  words,  and  not  letters 
for  letters  ;  and  hence  an  unknown  language  cannot  be 
decyphered. 

21.  There  is  a  standard  of  taste  and   beauty  which 


284  THOUGHTS     ON    PHILOSOPHICAL 

consists  in  a  certain  accordant  relation  between  our 
nature — it  may  be  weak  or  strong,  but  such  as  it  is, — 
and  the  thing  that  pleases  us.  All  that  is  formed  by 
this  standard  delights  us :  houses,  songs,  writings, 
verse,  prose,  women,  birds,  rivers,  trees,  rooms,  and 
dresses.  All  that  is  not  formed  by  this  standard,  dis- 
gusts a  man  of  good  taste. 

25.  As  we  say,  poetic  beaut}^,  so  also  we  should  say 
geometrical  beauty,  and  medicinal  beaut}^  Yet  we 
do  not  say  so,  and  the  reason  of  this  is,  that  we  know 
distinctly  the  object  of  geometry,  and  the  object  of 
medicine ;  but  we  -do  not  know  so  precisely  in  what 
consists  that  delight,  which  is  the  object  of  poetry. 
We  do  not  rightly  know  what  is  that  natural  model 
which  we  ought  to  imitate  ;  and,  for  want  of  this 
knowledge,  we  invent  extravagant  terms,  as,  golden 
age^'paragon  of  our  days^  fatal  laurel^  bright  star^  4"C. 
and  we  call  this  jargon  poetical  beauty.  But  he  who 
should  imagine  to  himself  a  lady  dressed  by  such  a 
model,  would  see  a  beautiful  woman  covered  with  mir- 
rors and  chains  of  brass,  and  could  not  refrain  from 
laughing  ;  because  we  understand  better  that  which 
pleases  in  poetry.  But  those  who  are  not  skilled  in 
these  matters,  might  admire  her  in  this  dress;  and 
there  are  plenty  of  villages  where  they  would  take 
her  for  the  queen  :  and  hence  there  are  son?e  who 
call  sonnets,  made  after  such  a  model,  village  queens. 

26.  When  a  discourse  paints  a  passion  or  an  effect 
naturally,  we  find  in  ourselves  the  truth  of  Avhat  we 
hear, — and  which  was  there  without  our  knowing  it ; 
— and  we  feel  induced  to  love  him  who  causes  us  to 
discover  it,  for  he  docs  not  shew  us  his  good,  but  our 
own;  and  hence,  this  benefit  conferred,  makes  us  love 
him.  Besides,  that  this  communit^^  of  intellectual  en- 
joyment that  we  have  with  him,  necessarily  inclines 
the  heart  to  love  him. 

27.  Tliere  should  be  in  eloquence  that  which  ia 
pleasing,  and  that  which  is  real;  but  that  which  is 
pleasing  should  itself  be  real. 

28.  When  we  meet  with  the  natural  style,    we    are 


AND  LITERARY  SUBJECTS.  285 

surprized  and  delighted,  for  we  expected  to  find  an  au- 
thor, and  we  have  found  a  man.  Whilst  those  of  good 
taste  who  look  into  a  book,  in  the  hope  of  finding  a 
man,  are  altogether  surprized  to  find  an  author  :  plus 
poetice  quam  humane  locutus  est.  They  confer  the 
greatest  honor  on  nature,  who  teach  her  that  she  can 
speak  on  all  subjects,  even  theology. 

29.  The  last  thing  that  we  discover  in  writing  a 
book,  is  to  know  what  to  put  at  the  beginning. 

30.  In  a  discourse,  it  is  wrong  to  divert  the  mind 
from  one  thing  to  another,  except  to  prevent  weari- 
ness ;  and  that  only  in  the  time  when  it  is  suitable,  and 
not  otherwise  ;  for  he  who  wishes  to  amuse  inappro- 
priately, wearies, — men  will  turn  away  their  attention 
altogether.  So  difficult  is  it  to  obtain  any  thing  from 
man,  but  by  pleasure, — the  current  coin  for  which  we 
are  willing  to  give   every   thing. 

31.  What  a  vanity  is  painting  which  attracts  admira- 
tion, by  the  resemblance  of  things,  that  in  the  original, 
we  do  not  at  all  admire  ? 

32.  The  same  sense  is  materially  affected  by  the 
words  that  convey  it.  The  sense  receives  its  dignity 
from  the  word,  instead  of  imparting  it  to  them. 

33.  Those  who  are  accustomed  to  judge  by  feeling, 
understand  but  little  in  matters  of  reasoning  ;  for  they 
at  once,  penetrate  the  subject  with  one  view,  and  are 
not  accustomed  to  search  for  principles.  Others,  on 
the  contrary,  who  are  accustomed  to  reason  from 
principles,  comprehend  little  in  matters  of  feeling; 
searching  for  principles,  and  not  being  able  to  discov- 
er them. 

34.  True  eloquence  despises  eloquence.  True 
morality  despises  morality  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  morality 
of  the  understanding,  sets  light  by  the  morality  of  the 
fancy,  which  knows  no  rule. 

35.  All  the  false  beauties  that  we  condemn  in  Ci- 
cero, have  their  admirers  in  crowds. 

36.  To  set  light  by  philosophy,  is  the  true  philoso- 
phy. 

37.  Many  persons  understand  a  sermon,  as  they  un- 
derstand vespers. 


286  ON  EPICTETUS 

38.  Risers  are  roads  which  move  forward,  and 
carry  us  to  our  destination. 

39.  Two  faces  which  resemble  each  other,  neither 
of  which  is  ludicrous  alone,  excite  a  smile  from  their 
resemblance,  when  seen  together. 

40.  Astrologers  and  Alchymists  have  some  sound 
principles,  but  they  abuse  them.  Now,  the  abuse  of 
truth  ought  to  be  as  much  punished  as  the  invention 
of  falsehood. 

44.  I  cannot  forgive  Descartes.  He  would  willing- 
ly, in  all  his  philosophy,  have  done  without  God,  if  he 
could ;  but  he  could  not  get  on  without  letting  him 
give  the  world  a  filip  to  set  it  a  going  ;  after  that,  he 
has  nothing  more  to  do  with  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

OJV  EPICTETUS  AND  MONTAIGNE. 

Epictetus*  is  one  of  those  philosophers  of  this  world 
who  have  best  known  the  duties  of  man.  He  v,'Ould 
have  him  before  all  things,  to  regard  God  as  his  chief 
object,  to  be  persuaded  that  he  governs  all  things  with 
justice,  to  submit  to  him  cordially,  an-d  to  follow  him 
willingly  as  infinitely  wise,  and  he  athrms  tliat  this  dis- 
position would  stay  all  his  complaints  and  mi>eries, 
and  prepare  him  to  endure  patiently  the  most  distres- 
sing events. 

Never  say,  he  enjoins,  "  I  have  lost  that."  Say 
rather,  "I  have  restored  it.  My  son  is  dead  ;  1  have 
surrendered  him.  My  wife  is  dead;  I  have  given  her 
up."  And  so  of  every  other  good.  "  But  he  who  de- 
prived me  of  this  good,  is  a  wicked  man."  Why  dis- 
tress yourself  about  him,  by  whom  He  who    lent   the 


*  A  Stoic  philosopher,  who  flourished  during  the  latter  part 
of  the  1st  century.  His  treatise  on  Morals  has  been  translated 
from  the  Greek,  by  Mrs.  Carter.  A.  E. 


AND  MONTAIGNE.  287 

blessing,  sent  to  seek  it  again  ?  While  the  use  of 
it  is  permitted  to  you,  regard  it  as  a  good  belonging 
to  others,  as  a  traveller  does  in  an  inn."  "  You 
should  not  wish,"  he  continues,  "  that  things  should 
be  as  you  desire,  but  you  should  wish  that  they 
may  be  as  they  are.  Remember  that  you  are 
here  as  an  actor,  and  that  you  play  that  part  which 
your  master  is  pleased  to  appoint.  If  he  gives  you  a 
short  part,  play  short;  if  a  long  part,  play  long:  re- 
main on  the  stage  as  long  as  he  pleases;  appear  on  it 
rich  or  poor,  according  to  his  command.  It  is  your 
duty  to  play  well  the  part  assigned  ;  but  to  choose  it, 
is  the  part  of  God.  Set  alwaj^s  before  your  eyes  death 
and  the  evils  which  seem  least  bearable,  and  you 
would  never  think  slightingly  of  any  thing,  nor  desire 
any  thing  excessively."  He  shews  in  many  ways  what 
man  should  do.  He  wishes  him  to  be  humble,  to 
hide  his  good  resolutions,  especially  in  their  com- 
mencement, and  to  fulfil  them  secretly,  for  that  nothing 
so  much  injures  them  as  exposure.  He  never  wea- 
ries of  repeating  that  all  the  study  and  the  desire  of 
men  should  be,  to  know  and  to  do  the  will  of  God. 

Such  was  the  light  of  this  great  mind,  who  so  well 
understood  the  duties  of  man;  happy  if  he  had  as  well 
known  his  weakness.  But,  after  having  so  weJl  un- 
derstood what  man  ought  to  do,  he  loses  himself  in  the 
presumption  of  that  for  which  he  thinks  him  equal. — 
"  God,"  he  says,  "  has  given  to  every  man  the  means 
of  acquitting  himself  of  all  his  obligations;  these 
means  are  always  in  his  power.  We  should  only 
seek  happiness  by  the  means  that  are  in  our  power. 
Since  God  has  given  them  for  that  end,  we  ought  to 
ascertain  what  is  our  liberty.  Wealth,  life,  respect, 
are  not  in  our  power,  and  do  not  lead  to  God  ;  but  the 
mind  cannot  be  forced  to  believe  that  which  it  knows 
to  be  false  ;  nor  the  will  to  love  that  which  it  knows 
will  make  it  miserable.  These  two  powers  then  are 
perfectly  free  ;  and  by  these  only  can  we  make  our- 
selves perfect, — know  God  perfectl}'^^,  love  him,  obey 
him,  please  him, , vanquish  all  vices,  attain  all  virtues, 
and  thus,  make  ourselves  the  holy  companions  of  God." 


ZiJ»  ON  EPICTETUS 

These  proud  notions  lead  Epictetus  to  other  errors, 
such  as,  that  the  soul  is  a  portion  of  the  Divine  essence; 
that  pain  and  death  are  not  evils  ;  that  we  may  kill  our- 
selves when  we  are  oppressed;  that  we  may  believe 
that  God  calls  us,  &c. 

2.  Montaigne,*  born  in  a  Christian  land,  made  a  pro- 
fession of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  ;  and  so  far 
there  was  nothing  peculiar  about  him.  But  as  he 
wished  to  seek  a  system  of  morals,  founded  on  reason, 
independently  of  the  illumination  of  faith,  he  laid 
down  his  principles  according  to  this  supposition,  and 
considered  man  as  entirely  destitute  of  a  rev- 
elation. He  places  all  things,  therefore,  in  a  state  of 
doubt  so  general  and  universal,  that  man  doubts  ;  and 
this  uncertainty  returns  restlessly  upon  itself  in  a  cir- 
cle perpetuallj^,  opposing  equally  those  who  affirm 
that  every  thing  is  uncertain,  and  those  who  affirm 
that  nothing  is  ;  for  he  does  not  wish  to  give  certainty 
in  any  thing.  In  this  doubt  which  doubts  itself,  and  in 
this  ignorance  which  is  ignorant  of  itself,  consists  the 
essence  of  his  opinions.  He  cannot  express  it  in  posi- 
itive  terms  ;  for,  if  he  says,  he  doubts,  he  betrays  him- 
self by  making  it  certain  tha^  he  doubts;  which  be- 
ing in  form  contrary  to  his  intention,  he  is  reduced  to 
the  necessity  of  explaining  hiniself  by  a  question  ;  so 
that  not  wishing  to  say,  I  do  not  know  ;  he  asks.  What 
do  I  know  ?  And  on  this  idea  he  has  framed  his  de- 
vice, in  which  he  has  written  this  motto,  '-'•  Que  sais 
Je,"  under  the  scales  of  a  balance,  each  containing  a 
contradictory  proposition,  and  consequently,   hanging 


*  A  French  writer,  who  was  born,  1533.  He  was  taught 
Latin  as  his  vernacular  tongue.  His  absurd  educatioa  fur- 
nished I'ope  with  some  hints  for  his  Martin  Scriblerus.  His 
Essays,  which  were  first  published  about  1595,  are  the  oldest 
examples  of  this  kind  of  writing.  He  was  remarkable  for  his 
boldness  and  originality.  Cowley,  Sir  William  Temple,  and 
others,  were  his  imitators.  Hence  a  new  and  interesting  de- 
parthient  of  English  literature.  A.  E. 


AND  MONTAIG-XE.  289 

in  equilibrium.  In  fact,  he  is  a  pure  Pyrrhonist.  All 
his  discourses,  all  his  essays,  proceed  on  this  principle; 
^nd  it  is  the  only  thing  which  he  professes  thoroughly 
to  establish.  He  insensibly  destroys  all  that  passes  for 
certain  among  men;  not  to  establish  the  contrary 
with  certainty  ;  for  to  certainty  he  is  chiefly  hostile  ; 
butmerelj^  to  make  it  appear  that  the  evidence  being 
equal  on  both  sides,  it  is  impossible  to  know  where 
our  confidence  should  be  reposed. 

In  this  spirit  he  derides  every  thing  like  assurance. 
He  combats,  for  instance,  those  who  have  thought  to 
establish  a  grand  remedy  against  legal  processes  by  the 
multitude  and  the  professed  justice  of  the  laws,  as  If  it 
were  possible  to  annihilate  the  region  of  doubt  in  which 
litigation  originates ;  as  if  we  could  throw  a  dam  across 
the  torrent  of  uncertainty,  and  restrain  conjecture.  He 
saj^s,  on  this  matter,  that  he  would  as  soon  commit  his 
cause  to  the  first  passer  by,  as  to  the  judges  armed  with 
law  and  precedent.  He  does  not  aim  to  change  the  or- 
der of  the  state  ;  he  does  not  pretend  that  his  advice  is 
better;  he  considers  none  good.  He  airos  only  to 
shew  the  vanity  of  the  best  received  opinions,  shewing 
that  the  annulling  of  all  laws  would  sooner  diminish  the 
number  of  differences,  than  the  multitude  of  laws  which 
serve  only  to  augment  them;  because  the  difficulties 
increase  the  more  they  are  considered  ;  the  obscurities 
are  multiplied  bj^  multiplied  comments  ;  arid  the  surest 
way  of  understanding  the  sense  of  the  passage  is,  not  to 
examine  it,  but  to  determine  on  it  at  the  first  glance  ; 
for  that  the  instant  you  look  into  it,  all  its  clearness  dis- 
appears. On  this  plan  he  judges  at  hap-hazard  all  hu- 
man actions  and  historical  facts,  sometimes  after  one 
manner,  sometimes  after  another,  following  freely  the 
first  impression,  without  controlling  his  thoughts  by 
the  rules  of  reason,  which  according  to  him,  are  all 
false  guides.  Delighted  with  shewing,  in  his  own  ex- 
ample, the  contrarieties  of  the  same  mind  in  this  illim- 
itable field,  it  is  the  same  to  him  whether  he  grows 
warm  or  not  in  a  dispute,  having  always  the  means  by 
one  example  or  another,  of  shewing  the  weakness  of 
24 


290  ON  EPICTETUS 

any  opinion  whatever;  being  so  far  elevated  by  the 
system  of  universal  doubt,  he  strengthens  himself  equal- 
ly by  his  triumph  or  his  defeat. 

It  is  from  this  position,  fluctuating  and  variable  as  it 
is,  that  he  combats  with  invincible  firmness  the  here- 
tics of  his  time,  on  the  ground  that  they  assumed  to 
themselves  the  exclusive  knowledge  of  the  true  sense 
of  Scripture  ;  and  from  thence  also  he  thunders  against 
the  horrible  impiety  of  those  who  dare  to  say  that  there 
is  no  God.  ^He  attacks  them,  especially  in  the  apolo- 
ogy  of  Raimond  de  Sebonde,  and  finding  them  entirely 
stripped  of  the  support  of  a  revelation,  and  abandoned 
to  their  natural  light,  independent  of  faith,  he  demands 
of  them  on  what  authority  the}^  pretend  to  judge  of  this 
Sovereign  Being,  whose  specific  definition  is  hifinity 
— they  who  do  not  thoroughly  know  the  smallest  thing 
in  nature.  He  asks  them  on  what  principles  the}' rest, 
and  presses  them  to  disclose  them.  He  examines  ail 
that  they  can  produce  ;  and  he  goes  so  deeply  by  that 
talent,  in  which  he  peculiarly  excels,  that  he  shews 
the  vanity  of  those  principles  which  pass  tor  the  clear- 
est and  the  most  established.  He  inquires  if  the  soul 
knows  any  thing ;  if  it  knows  itself  ;  if  it  is  a  substance  or 
an  accident,  body  or  spirit ;  what  each  of  these  things 
is,  and  if  there  are  not  some  things  which  belong  not  to 
either  of  these  orders  ;  if  the  soul  knows  its  own  body  ; 
if  it  knows  what  matter  is;  how  it  can  reason  if  it  is 
matter,  and  how  it  can  be  united  to  a  material  frame, 
and  feel  its  passions,  if  it  is  purely  immaterial  ?  When 
did  its  existence  commence  ;  with  or  before  the  body  ? 
Will  it  terminate  with  it  or  not  ?  Does  it  never  deceive 
itself?  Does  ii  know  when  it  is  in  error?  seeing  that 
the  very  essence  of  error  is  not  being  aware  of  it.  He 
asks  also.  If  brules  reason,  think,  or  speak?  Who  can 
say  what  is  time  or  space  ;  extension,  motion,  or  unity  ; 
all  being  things  by  which  we  are  surrounded,  but  ut- 
terly inexplicable  ?  What  are  health,  sickness,  death, 
life,  good  or  evil,  justice  or  transgression  :  things  of 
which  we  speak  continually  ?  If  we  have  within  us 
the  principles  of  truth,  and  if  those  that  we  believe  to 


AND  MONTAIGNE.  291 

be  such,  and  that  we  call  axioms^  or  notions  common  to 
all  men.,  are  really  conformed  to  essential  truth  ?  Since 
we  cannot  know  but  by  the  light  of  faith,  that  nn  infin- 
itely Good  Being  has  really  given  us  these  principles, 
and  formed  us  so  as  to  comprehend  truth:  who  could 
know  without  the  light  of  faith,  whether  we  may  not 
be  formed  by  accident;  and  that  consequently,  all  our 
notions  are  uncertain  ;  or,  whether  we  may  not  be  cre- 
ated by  a  false  and  wicked  being,  w^ho  has  given  us 
these  false  principles  expressly  to  lead  u/astray  ?  And 
thus,  he  shews  that  God  and  the  truth  are  inseparable, 
and  that  if  one  is  or  is  not,  if  one  is  certain  or  uncer- 
tain, the  other  is  necessarily  the  same.  Who  knows 
that  common  sense  which  we  generally  regard  as  the 
judge  of  truth,  has  been  appointed  to  this  office  by  Him 
who  made  it?  Who  knows  what  is  truth?  and  how 
can  we  be  sure  of  possessing  it  without  knowing  it  ? 
Who  knows,  in  fact,  what  being  is,  since  it  is  impossi- 
ble so  to  define  it,  but  that  there  must  be  something 
more  general ;  and  since  it  requires,  even  in  the  ex- 
planation of  it,  to  use  the  very  idea  of  Beings  saying  it 
is.  such  a  thing  ?  Since  we  know  not  what  the  soul,  the 
body,  time,  space,  motion,  truth,  and  good  are,  and  even 
what  being  is,  nor  how  to  explain  the  idea  that  we 
have  formed  of  them  ;  how  can  we  know  that  the  idea 
is  the  same  in  all  men  ?  We  have  no  other  mark  than 
the  uniformity  of  results,  which  is  net  always  a  sign  of 
uniformity  of  principles  ;  for  they  may  be  very  differ- 
ent, and  yet  lead  to  the  same  conclusions;  every  one 
knowing  that  troth  may  be  concluded  from  falsehood. 
Then  Montaigne  examines  very  deeply  the  sciences. 
Geometry,  the  uncertainty  of  which  he  points  out  in 
its  axioms,  and  its  terms  which  it  does  not  define,  as 
extension,  motion^  c/c.  ;  physics  and  medicine,  which  he 
depresses  in  a  variety  of  ways:  history,  politics, morals, 
jurisprudence,  &,c.  So  that,  without  revelation,  we 
might  believe  according  to  him,  that  life  is  a  dream, 
from  which  we  do  not  wake  till  death,  and  during 
which,  we  have  as  few  principles  of  truth  as  in  natural 
sleep.     In  this  way  he  attacks  so  fiercely  and    so    cru- 


zyz  ON  EFICTETUS 

ellj  reason  when  unaided  by  faith,  that  causing  it  to 
doubt  whether  it  is  rational  or  not,  and  whether  the 
brutes  are  so  or  not,  or  more  or  less  so  than  nrien,  he 
brings  it  down  from  the  excellence  that  is  attributed 
to  it,  and  places  it  as  a  maiter  of  favor  on  a  level  with 
the  brutes,  without  permitting  it  to  rise  above  that 
level,  till  it  shall  be  instructed  by  its  Creator,  as  to 
that  real  rank  which  belongs  to  it,  and  of  which  it  is 
ignorant?  threatening,  if  it  rebels,  to  place  it  beneath 
every  thing  else,  v/hich  appears,  at  least,  as  easy  as 
the  reverse  ;  and  not  allowing  it  power  to  act,  except 
to  recognize,  with  real  humility,  its  feebleness,  instead 
of  elevating  itself  by  a  false  and  foolish  vanity.  We 
cannot  behold  but  with  joy,  that  in  this  writer,  haugh- 
ty reason  has  been  so  completely  battered  by  its  own 
weapons, — to  see  this  deadly  struggle  between  man 
and  man,  which,  from  the  association^  with  God,  to 
which  he  had  raised  himself  by  the  maxims  of  feeble 
reason,  hurls  him  headlong  to  the  level  of  the  brutes: 
and  we  would  cordially  love  the  minister  of  this  mighty 
vengeance,  if,  as  an  humble,  believing  disciple  of  the 
church,  he  had  followed  the  rules  of  its  morality,  and 
taught  man  whom  he  had  so  beneticially  humbled,  no 
longer  to  irritate,  by  fresh  crimes.  Him  who  alone 
could  redeem  him  from  those  already  committed,  and 
which  evils  God  had  already  convinced  him,  that  man 
had  not  the  pon'er  to  discover.  But,  on  the  contrary, 
he  acts  like  a  heathen.     Look  at  his  moral  system. 

From  this  principle,  that  independent  of  faith,  all 
is  uncertainty  ;  and  fiom  the  consideration,  how  large 
a  portion  of  time  has  been  spent  in  seeing  the  true 
good,  witiiout  an}'  progress  towards  tranquillity;  he 
concludes,  that  we  should  leave  this  care  to  others; 
resting,  in  the  meantime,  in  a  state  of  repose,  and 
touching  lightly  on  these  subjects,  lest  we  sink  by  pres- 
^  sure;  that  we  should  admit  truth  and  the  true  good 
upon  the  first  glance,  without  examining  too  closely, 
because  they  are  so  far  from  solid,  that  however  little 
we  grasp  the  hand,  they  escape  between  our  fingers, 
and  leave  it  empty.    He  follows,  then,  the  report  of  the 


AND  MONTAIGNE.  293 

senses,  and  the  prevailing  notions,  because  to  deny 
them,  would  be  to  do  violence  to  himself,'  and  he 
knows  not  in  his  ignorance  of  truth,  if  he  would  be  the 
gainer  by  it.  He  avoids  also  pain  and  death,  because 
his  instinct  shuns  them,  and  jet  for  the  same  reason 
as  belbre,  he  would  not  resist  them.  But  he  does  not 
trust  himself  too  much  to  these  emotions  of  fear,  and 
does  not  venture  to  conclude  that  pain  and  death  are 
real  evils  ;  since  we  discover  also  emoiicns  of  pleasure 
which  we  condemn  as  evil,  though  nature  affirms  the 
contrary.  "  So  that,"  says  he,  ''  I  have  nothing  ex- 
travagant in  my  conduct.  1  do  as  others  d.)  :  and  all  that 
they  do  under  the  foolish  notion  that  they  are  seeking 
the  true  good,  I  do  from  another  principle,  which  is 
that  the  probabilities  on  both  sides  being  equal,  exam- 
ple and  my  own  convenience  lead  me."  j-le  adopts 
the  manners  of  his  country,  because  custom  leads  him  ; 
he  mounts  his  horse  and  rides,  because  the  horse  al- 
lows it,  but  without  regarding  it  as  a  matter  ol  right ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  does  not  know  but  that  the  horse 
has  a  right  to  ride  him.  He  even  does  violence  to 
himself,  in  order  to  avoid  certain  vices;  he  preserves 
matrimonial  fidelity,  on  account  of  the  annoyance  re- 
sulting from  irregularities,  the  real  object  of  all  his  ac- 
tions being  convenience  and  tranquillity.  He  utterly 
rejects  that  Stoical  virtue,  which  is  delineated  with  a 
sour  countenance,  and  a  frowning  brow,  with  hair  dis- 
lieveled,  and  her  forehead  wrinkled  with  care,  and 
sitting  in  a  paintul  attitude,  in  solitude  and  in  silence 
on  the  top  of  a  rock,  an  object  fit  only,  as  he  says,  to 
frighten  youth,  and  doing  nothing  but  seeking  with  un- 
remitted toil  for  rest,  where  rest  can  never  come; 
v/hilst,  on  the  other  hand,  virtue,  according  to  his  no- 
tion, is  ingenuous,  open,  pleasant,  gay,  and  even  spor- 
tive :  she  follows  that  which  pleases  her  and  negligent- 
ly trifles  with  the  events  of  life,  whether_good  or  bad; 
the  nestles  luxuriously  in  the  bosom  of  u  quiet  indo- 
lence, froGi  whence  she  teaches  those  who  seek  so 
restlessly  after  happiness,  that  it  is  to  be  found  no  where 
but  in  the  shrine  where  she  reposes:  and  that,  asi  he 
24* 


294  ON  EFICTETUS 

says,  ignorance  and  indifference  are  the  downy  pillows 
for  a  well-made  head. 

3.  On  reading  Montaigne,  and  comparing  him  with 
Epictetns,  we  cannot  dissemhle  a  conviction,  that  they 
were  the  two  greatest  defenders  of"  the  two  most  cele- 
brated sects  of  the  unbelieving  world,  and  thai  they 
are  the  only  persons  among  the  varieties  of  men  desti- 
tute of  the  light  of  true  religion,  who  are  in  any  de- 
gree rational  and  consistent.  In  fact,  without  revela- 
tion, what  could  we  do  but  follow  one  or  the  other  of 
these  systems?  The  first  system  is.  There  is  a  God, 
then  he  has  created  man  ;  he  has  created  him  for  him- 
self;  he  has  made  him  such  as  he  ought  to  be,  to  be 
just,  and  to  become  happy.  Then  man  may  attain  to 
the  knowledge  of  truth  ;  and  it  is  within  his  range  t© 
elevate  himself  by  wisdom,  even  to  God  himself  who 
is  the  sovereign  good.  The  other  system  is,  Man 
cannot  elevate  himself  to  God;  his  native  tendencies 
are  contrary  to  God's  law  ;  his  tendency  is  to  seek 
happiness  in  visible  things,  and  even  in  those  which 
are  most  disgraceful.  Every  thing  then  appears  un- 
certain, even  the  true  good  itself;  and  we  are  redu- 
ced to  such  a  state,  that  we  appear  to  have  neither  a 
fixed  rule  for  morals,  nor  certainty  in  matters  of 
science. 

There  is  much  pleasure  in  observing  in  these  differ- 
ent lines  of  reasoning,  in  what  respects  men  on  either 
side  have  discovered  any  traces  of  that  truth  Avhich 
they  have  endeavored  to  seek.  For  if  it  is  pleasant 
to  observe  in  nature,  the  effort  to  shew  forth  God  in 
the  works  of  his  hands,  where  some  marks  of  him  are 
seen,  because  those  works  are  his  image  ;  how  much 
more  justifiable  are  the  efforts  of  the  human  mind  to 
arrive  at  truth,  and  the  endeavour  to  ascertain  in  what 
respects  they  attain  to  it,  and  in  what  they  go  astray. 
This  is  the  chief  benefit  to  be  derived  from  reading 
Montaigne's  writings. 

It  would  seem  that  the  source  of  error  in  Epictetus, 
and  the  Stoics  on  one  side,  and  ol  Montaigne  and  the 
Epicureans  on  the  other,  is  the  not  having  known  that 


AND  MONTAIGNE.  295 

the  present  state  of  mnn  differs  from  that  state  in  which 
he  was  created.  The  former,  observing  in  man  some 
remnant  traces  of  his  former  greatness,  and  ignorant  of 
his  corruption,  have  treated  human  nature  as  in  a 
healthy  state,  and  without  need  of  reparation — an  error 
which  has  led  to  the  most  unbounded  pride.  The  lat- 
ter, sensible  of  man's  presents  misery,  and  ignorant  of 
his  former  dignity,  have  treated  our  nature  as  if  it 
were  necessarily  impure  and  incurable,  and  have  thus 
been  led  to  despair  of  ever  attai-ning  the  true  good, 
and  have  sunk  from  thence  to  the  lowest  moral  degra- 
dation. These  two  states,  which  ought  to  be  taken 
cognizance  of  together,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  whole 
truth,  being  looked  at  separately,  have  led  necessarily 
to  one  or  other  of  these  vices,  either  pride  or  immor- 
ality, in  one  of  which,  all  unconverted  men  are  infal- 
libly plunged;  since  either  from  the  power  of  corrup- 
tion, they  do  not  avoid  irregular  indulgence,  or  if  they 
escape,  it  is  only  through  pride  ;  so  that  they  are  al- 
waj^s  in  one  way  or  other  the  slaves  of  the  spirit  ot 
wickedness,  to  whom,  as  St.  Augustine  says,  sacrifice 
is  offered  in  many  different  wa3^s. 

And  hence  it  follows,  as  the  result  of  this  imperfect 
light,  that  one  class  of  men,  knowing  their  powerless- 
ness,  and  not  their  duty,  sink  down  in  sin ;  the  other, 
knowing  their  duly,  but  not  their  weakness,  lift  them- 
selves up  with  pride.  One  might  suppose,  that  by 
uniting  these  two  classes,  a  perfect  system  of  morale 
might  be  produced;  but  instead  of  peace,  nothing 
would  result  irom  the  meeting  but  conflict  and  de- 
struction :  for,  since  the  one  aimed  to  establish  cer- 
tainty, and  the  other  universal  doubt ;  the  one,  the 
dignity  of  man,  and  the  other  his  weakness,  they  can- 
not possibly  be  reconciled  ;  they  cannot  subsist  alone 
because  of  their  defects;  nor  together,  because  of  the 
contrariety  of  their  opinions. 

4.  But  it  was  needful  that  they  should  come  into 
collision,  and  destroy  each  other,  in  order  to  give 
place  to  the  truth  of  revelation,  which  alone  can  har- 
monize by  a  principle  truly  divine,  such  manifest  con 


296  ON  EPICTETUS 

trarieties.  Uniting-  all  that  is  true,  and  setting  aside 
all  that  is  false,  she  indicates  by  a  wisdom  evidently 
"  from  above,"  that  point  at  which  those  opposing 
principles  unite,  which,  as  staled  in  doctrines  merely 
human,  appear  perfectly  incompatible  with  each  oth- 
er. And  here  is  the  reason  of  it.  The  wise  men  of 
this  world  have  placed  these  contrarieties  in  the  same 
subject;  the  one  side  attributing  strength  to  human 
nature  ;  the  other,  weakness  to  this  same  nature  ; 
which  things  cannot  be  true  together.  Faith,  howev- 
er, teaches  us  to  regard  these  two  qualities  as  residing 
in  different  subjects,  all  the  infirmity  belonging  to  man, 
and  all  his  might  to  divine  assistance.  There  is  the 
novel  and  surprising  union  which  God  only  could  teach 
us, — which  God  only  could  accomplish,  and  which  is 
only  an  image  and  an  effect  of  the  ineffable  union  of 
two  natures  in  the  one  person  of  the  God-man  Media- 
tor. In  this  way  philosophy  leads  insensibly  to  theol- 
ogy. In  fact  it  is  difficult  not  to  enter  upon  it  whenev- 
er we  treat  of  truth,  because  it  is  the  centre  of  all 
truth,  a  fjct  which  appears  here  unquestionably,  be- 
cause it  so  evidently  unites  in  itself  whatever  there 
is  of  truth  in  these  contrary  opinions.  Moreover,  we 
can  see  no  reason  why  either  party  should  refuse  to 
follow  it.  If  they  are  filled  with  notions  of  human 
greatness,  what  is  there  in  all  that  they  have  imagin- 
ed, that  does  not  yield  to  the  gospel  promises,  which 
are  a  purchase  worthy  of  the  inestimable  price  of  the 
death  of  the  Son  of  God.  And  if  they  take  delight  in 
the  infirmity  of  human  nature,  no  notion  of  theirs  can 
equal  that  of  the  real  weakness  induced  by  sin,  of 
which  that  same  death  is  the  remed3\  Each  party 
finds  in  the  gospel  even  more  than  it  has  wished;  and 
what  is  wonderful,  they  find  there  the  means  of  solid 
nnion — even  they  who  could  not  of  themselves  ap- 
proximate in  an  infinitely  lower  degree. 

6.  Christians  in  general  have  little  need  of  these 
philosophical  lectures.  Yet  Epictetus  has  an  admira- 
ble talent  for  disturbing  those  who  seek  for  repose  in 
external  things,  and    for  compelling  them  to  discover 


AND  MONTAIGNE.  ■  297 

that  they  are  reallj'  slaves  and  miserably  blind,  and 
that  it  i.^  impossible  to  escape  the  error  and  the  dis- 
tress from  which  they  endeavor  to  f[y\,  unless  they 
give  themselves  up  unreservedly  to  God.  Montaigne 
is  equally  successful  in  confounding  the  pride  of  those, 
who,  without  the  aid  of  faith,  boast  themselves  of  a 
real  righteousness;  in  correcting  those  who  value 
their  own  opinion,  and  who  believe  that,  independent- 
ly of  the  existence  and  perfections  of  God,  the}^  shall 
find  in  the  sciences  infrangible  truth.  He  exhibits  to 
reason  so  convincingly  the  poverty  of  its  light,  and  the 
muhitude  of  its  errors,  that  it  is  difficult  afterwards  to 
feel  even  the  temptation  to  reject  the  mysteries  of  re- 
ligion, on  the  ground  that  they  may  be  contradicted; 
for  the  spirit  is  so  humbled,  that  it  does  not  even  pre- 
sume to  judge  if  mysteries  are  possible,  a  point  which 
ordinary  men  debate  too  readily.  But  Epictetus,  in 
his  reprehension  of  indifference,  leads  to  pride,  and 
may  be  most  injurious  to  those  who  are  not  convinced 
of  the  corruption  of  all  righteousness,  but  that  which 
is  of  faith.  Montaigne,  on  the  other  hand,  is  positive- 
ly evil  in  his  influence  on  those  whose  bias  is  to  im- 
piety and  vice.  And  hence  these  authors  should  be 
read  with  great  care  and  discretion,  and  with  peculiar 
regard  to  the  condition  and  morals  of  those  who  look 
into  them.  It  seems,  however,  that  the  union  of  theni 
can  only  have  a  beneficial  influence,  as  the  evil  of 
one  corrects  the  evil  of  the  other.  It  is  true  that  they 
do  not 'impart  virtue,  but  they  disturb  men  in  their 
vices.  For  man  finds  himself  assailed  by  contrarieties, 
one  of  which  attacks  his  pride,  and  the  other  his  care- 
lessness, and  ascertains  that  all  his  reason  will  not  en- 
able him  either  to  obtain  peace  in  the  indulgence  of 
his  vices,  or  altogether  to  avoid  them. 


298  ON  THE  CONDITION 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ON  THE  CONDITION  OF  THE  CHEAT. 

A  MAN  was  thrown  by  a  tempest  on  an  unknown 
island,  the  inhabitants  of  which,  were  seeking  their 
king,  whom  they  had  lost;  and  as  he  had  accidentally 
some  resemblance  to  him,  both  in  face  and  figure,  he 
was  mistaken  for  him,  and  recognized  as  such  by  all 
the  people.  At  first  he  knew  not  how  to  act ;  but  he 
resolved,  at  length,  to  yield  to  his  good  fortune.  He 
received,  therefore,  all  the  respect  with  which  they 
honored  him,  and  allowed  hitoself  to  be  treated  as 
their  king. 

But  since  he  could  not  altogether  forget  his  former 
condition,  he  thought  even  while  he  received  their 
homnge,  that  he  was  not  the  king  whom  this  people 
sought,  and  that  the  kingdom  did  not  really  belong  to 
him.  His  thoughts,  consequently,  were  two-fold. — 
One  by  which  he  played  the  king ;  the  other  which 
recognized  his  true  condition,  and  that  chance  only 
had  placed  him  in  this  extraordinar}'^  position.  He 
hides  this  last  thought,  whilst  he  discloses  the  other. 
According  to  the  former,  he  deals  with  the  people  ; 
accordhig  to  the  latter,  he  deals  with  himself. 

^hink  not,  that  by  a  less  extraordinary  chance,  you 
possess  your  wealth,  than  that  by  which  this  man  be- 
came a  king.  You  have  not  in  yourself  any  personal 
or  natural  right,  more  than  he  ;  and  not  only  does  your 
being  the  son  of  a  duke,  but  your  being  in  the  world 
at  all,  depend  upon  a  variety  of  contingencies.  Your 
birth  depended  on  a  marriage,  or  rather  on  all  the 
marriages  of  a  long  line  of  ancestry.  But  on  what 
did  these  marriages  depend  ?  On  an  accidental  meet- 
ing! on  a  morning's  conversation!  on  a  thousand  un- 
foreseen occurrences. 

You  hold,  say  you,  your  riches  from  your  forefath- 


OF  THE  GREAT.  299 

ers  ;  but  was  it  not  the  result  of  a  thousand  contin- 
gencies, that  your  forefathers  acquired  or  preserved 
them?  A  thousand  others  as  clever  as  they,  have  not 
been  able  to  acquire  wealth,  or  have  lost  it  when 
they  had.  You  conceive,  that  by  some  natural  chan- 
nel, this  wealth  descended  from  your  ancestry  to  you. 
No  such  thing.  This  order  is  founded  solely  on  the 
will  of  those  who  made  the  laws,  and  who  might  have 
had  divers  good  reasons  for  so  framing  them  ;  but 
none  of  which,  most  assuredly,  was  formed  in  the  no- 
tion of  your  natural  right  in  those  possessions.  If  they 
had  chosen  to  ordain,  that  this  wealth,  after  having 
been  possessed  by  the  father  during  his  life,  should  re- 
turn at  his  death  to  the  public  treasury,  you  would 
have  had  no  reason  to  complain. 

Thus  then,  the  whole  title  by  which  you  possess 
your  propertj^,  is  not  a  title  founded  in  nature,  but  in 
human  appointment.  Another  train  of  thought  in 
those  who  made  the  laws,  would  have  made  3'ou  poor; 
and  it  is  onl}^  this  favorable  contingency,  by  which  you 
are  born  in  accordance  with  the  whim  of  law,  which 
hai'put  you  in  possession  of  your  present  wealth. 

1  do  not  mean  to  say  that  your  goods  are  not  yours 
legitimately,  and  that  others  are  at  liberty  to  rob  you 
of  them  ;  for  God,  our  great  master,  has  given  to  soci- 
ety the  right  of  making  laws  for  the  division  of  prop- 
erty ;  and  when  these  laws  are  once  established,  it  is 
unjust  to  violate  them.  And  here  is  a  slight  distinc- 
tion between  you  and  the  man  of  whom  we  have  spok- 
en, whose  only  right  to  the  kingdom,  was  founded  in 
an  error  of  the  people  ;  for  God  would  not  sanction  his 
possession,  and,  in  iiict,  requires  him  to  renounce  it, 
whilst  he  authorizes  yours.  But  the  point  in  which 
the  two  cases  completely  coincide,  is  this,  that  neither 
your  right  nor  his  is  founded  in  any  quality  or  merit 
whatever  in  you,  or  which  renders  jou  deserving  of 
it.  Your  soul  and  your  body  are  of  themselves  no 
more  allied  to  the  state  of  a  dake,  than  to  that  of  a 
laborer  ;  there  is  no  natural  tie  which  binds  you  to  the 
one  condition,  rather  than  to  the  other. 


300  ON   THE    CONDIIION 

Then  what  follows  from  this  ?  that  you  ought  to 
have,  as  this  man  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  a  two-fold 
habit  of  thought ;  and  that,  if  jou  act  outwardly  to- 
wards men,  according  to  your  rank  in  life,  it  becomes 
you,  at  the  same  time,  to  cherish  a  sentiment  more 
concealed,  but  more  true,  that  you  are  in  no  respect 
naturally  above  them;  and  if  the  more  ostensible 
thought  elevates  you  above  men  in  general,  this  secret 
conviction  should  lower  you,  and  reduce  you  to  a  per- 
fect equality  with  all  men  ;  for  this  is  your  natural 
condition. 

The  people  who  admire  you,  are  perhaps  not  aware 
of  this  secret.  They  believe  that  nobilit}^  is  a  real 
natural  superiority;  and  they  regard  the  great,  as  be- 
ing of  a  different  nature  from  others.  You  are  not 
required  to  correct  this  error,  if  you  do  not  wish  it; 
but  see  that  you  do  not  insolently  misuse  this  elevation, 
and,  above  all,  do  not  mistake  yourself,  and  imagine 
that  there  is  in  your  nature  something  more  elevated 
than  in  that  of  others. 

What  would  you  say  of  him  who  had  been  made 
king,  through  the  mistake  of  the  people,  if  he  so  ^far 
forgot  his  original  condition,  as  to  imagine  that  this 
kingdom  Vv^as  properly  his,  that  he  deserved  it,  and 
that  it  belonged  to  him  as  a  matter  of  right.  You 
would  wonder  at  his  folly.  But  is  there  less  folly  in 
men,  who  live  in  such  strange  forgetfulness  of  their 
native  condition? 

How  important  is  this  advice  !  For  all  the  arrogance, 
violence  and  impatience  of  the  great,  spring  but 
from  this  ignorance  of  what  they  really  are.  For  it 
would  be  difficult  for  those  who  inwardly  consider 
themselves  on  a  level  with  all  men,  and  who  are 
thoroughly  convinced, that  there  is  in  them  nothing  that 
merits  the  little  advantages  which  God  has  given  them 
above  others,  to  treat  their  fellow-creatures  with  inso- 
lence. To  do  this,  they  must  forget  themselves,  and 
believe  that  there  is  in  them  some  essential  superiori- 
ty to  others.  And  in  this  consists  the  delusion  which 
1  am  anxious  to  expose  to  you. 


OF  THE  GREAT.  301 

2.  It  is  desireable  that  you  should  kaow  what  is  re- 
ally due  to  you,  that  you  may  not  attempt  to  require 
of  Qieu  that  which  is  not  your  due,  for  that  were  a 
manifest  injustice  ;  and  yet  to  act  thus,  is  very  com- 
mon in  men  of  your  condition,  because  they  are  not 
aware  of  their  real  merit. 

There  is  in  the  world  two  sorts  of  greatness  ;  there 
is  a  greatness  founded  in  nature,  and  a  greatness 
founded  in  appointment.  That  which  is  constituted 
great,  depends  on  the  will  of  men,  who  have  believed 
with  reason,  that  they  ought  to  honor  certain  situations 
in  life,  and  pay  them  certain  respects.  Of  this  kind 
are  titles  and  nobility.  In  one  country,  the  nobles  are 
reverenced ;  in  another,  the  laborers.  In  this  the  el- 
der ;  in  that,  the  younger.  Why  is  this  ?  Because 
men  would  have  it  so.  It  was  a  matter  of  indifference 
before  it  was  so  constituted;  since  then,  it  has  become 
a  matter  of  right,  for  it  is  unjust  to  interfere  with  it. 

Natural  greatness  is  that  v/hicl  *s  independent  of 
the  caprices  of  men,  because  it  co,^  >  in  real  and  ef- 
fective qualities  of  body  and  mind,  w...  h  render  the 
one  or  the  other  more  estimable,  as  sc.  -g,  intellect, 
energy,  virtue,  health,  or  strength. 

We  owe  a  duty  to  each  of  these  kinds  oi  .^reatnessj 
but  as  they  diifer  in  nature,  we  owe  them  also  a  very 
different  kind  of  respect.  To  constituted  greatness, 
we  owe  the  appointed  reverence ;  that  is,  certain  out- 
ward ceremonies,  which  ought  to  be,  at  the  same  time 
accompanied  as  we  have  shewn,  with  an  internal  re- 
cognition of  the  propriety  of  this  arrangement  j 
but  which  does  not  force  upon  us  the  idea  of  any  real 
quality  of  greatness  in  those  whom  we  so  honor.  We 
speak  on  our  bended  knee  to  kings.  We  must  stand 
in  the  saloons  of  princes.  It  is  folly  and  narrow-mind- 
edness to  refuse  these  observances. 

But  natural  respect,  which  consists  in  esteem,  we 
only  owe  to  natural  greatness  ;  and  we  owe  contempt 
and  aversion  to  the  opposite  qualities  to  this  greatness. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  esteem  you,  because 
you  are  a  duke;  but  it  is  that  I  bow  to  you.  If  you 
25 


302  ON  THE  CONDITIOX 

are  both  a  duke  and  a  virtuous  man,  then  I  will  yield 
the  reverence  which  I  owe  to  both  these  qualities.  1 
will  not  refuse  j^ou  the  obeisance  which  your  ducal 
dignity  demands;  nor  the  esteem  that  j^our  virtue 
merits.  But  if  you  were  a  duke  without  virtue,  1 
would  then  also  do  you  justice;  for  while  I  paid  that 
outward  respect  which  the  laws  of  society  have  attach- 
ed to  your  rank,  I  would  not  fail  to  cherish  towards 
you  that  inward  contempt,  which  your  meanness  of 
soul  deserved. 

This  is  the  line  that  justice  prescribes  to  such  du- 
ties, and  injustice  consists  in  paying  natural  respect  to 
artiiicial  greatness,  or  in  requiring  external  reverence 
to  natural  greatness.  BIr.  N.  is  a  greater  geometer 
than  1,  and,  on  this  account,  he  would  take  the  prece- 
dence of  me.  I  would  tell  him  that  he  does  not  com- 
prehend this  matter  rightly.  Geometry  is  a  natural 
superiority — it  ask«  the  preference  of  esteem ;  but 
men  have  not  ap'^  ited  to  it  any  outward  acknowl- 
edgement. I  d  precedence  of  him  therefore ; 
while,  at  the  ^  ^e  time,  I  esteem  him  more  than  my- 
self,  for  his       ometrical  talent. 

In  the  ?  .le  way,  if  as  a  duke,  and  a  peer  of  the 
realm,  y  a  are  not  satisfied  that  I  stand  uncovered  be- 
fore you,  and  you  require  me  to  esteem  you  also,  then 
I  must  beg  you  to  show  me  those  qualities  which  de- 
serve it.  If  you  do  this,  then  you  gain  your  point,  and 
I  cannot  refuse  you  with  justice;  but  if  you  cannot  do 
this,  then  you  are  unjust  to  ask  it;  and,  most  assuredly, 
you  would  not  succeed,  even  if  you  were  the  mightiest 
potentate  on  earth. 

3.  I  would  have  you,  then,  to  know  your  true  con- 
dition, for  it  is  the  thing,  in  all  the  world,  of  which  you 
men  of  rank  are  the  most  ignorant.  What  is  it,  accord- 
ing to  your  notion  to  be  a  great  lord  ?  It  is  to  have  the 
command  of  many  objects  of  human  gratification,  and 
to  be  able  thus  to  satisfy  the  wants  and  desires  of  many. 
It  is  the  wants  and  the  wishes  of  men  which  collect 
them  round  you  and  render  them  subservient;  without 
that,  they  would  not  look  to  you  exclusively  ;  but  they 


OF  THE    QREAT.  305 

hope,  hy  their  attention  and  adulation,  to  obtain  from 
you  some  part  of  those  good  things  which  they  seek, 
and  which  they  see  that  3^ou  have  to  bestow. 

God  is  surrounded  by  people  full  of  the  need  of 
charity,  who  ask  of  him  those  blessings  of  charity  that 
are  his  to  give.  Hence  He  is  appropriately  called, 
"  The  King  of  charity." 

You  are  in  the  same  way  surrounded  by  a  little 
crowd  of  people,  over  whom  you  reign  in  your  way. 
These  people  are  full  of  sensual  wants.  They  ask  of 
you  sensual  blessings.  They  are  bound  to  you  by 
covetousnese.  You  are  then  properly  the  king  of 
covetousness.  Your  dominion  may  be  of  small  ex- 
tent ;  but  as  to  the  kind  of  royalty,  you  are  on  a  level 
with  the  greatest  kings  of  the  earth.  They  are  like 
you,  monarchs  of  animal  wants.  This  it  is  which  in- 
vests them  with  power,  namely,  the  possession  of 
things  after  which  men  greedily  crave. 

But  in  thus  recognizing  your  real  and  natural  condi- 
tion, use  the  means  which  are  consistent  with  it,  and 
do  not  pretend  to  reign  by  any  other  way  than  by  that 
which  actually  constitutes  you  a  king.  It  is  not  your 
natural  energy  and  power  which  subjects  the  people 
round  you.  Do  not  pretend  then  to  rule  them  by  force; 
nor  to  treat  them  harshly.  Satisfy  their  just  desires; 
relieve  their  wants ;  find  your  pleasure  in  beneficence  ; 
help  them  as  much  as  you  can;  and  act  in  your  true 
character  as  the  king  of  animal  necessities. 

What  I  have  said  to  you,  does  not  go  far  into  the 
subject  of  duty;  and  if  therefore  you  rest  there,  you 
will  not  fail  to  lose  yourself,  though  you  v/ill  then,  at 
least,  sink  as  a  virtuous  man  should  do.  There  are 
men  who  destroy  their  own  souls  by  avarice,  by  bru- 
tality, by  dissipation,  by  violence,  by  passion,  by  blas- 
phemy. The  path  which  I  point  out  to  you,  is  undoubt- 
edly more  virtuous  than  these,  B.ut  in  any  way,  it  is 
unpardonable  folly  to  lose  one's  self ;  and  therefore,  I 
say,  you  must  not  rest  at  that  point.  You  should  de- 
spise sensuality  and  its  dominion,  and  aspire  to  that 
kingdom  of  charity,  where  all  its  subjects  breath  noth- 


304         ON  THE  CONDITION  OF  THE  GREAT. 

ing"  but  charity,  and  desire  no  other  blessings.  Others 
will  direct  you  better  than  I  can  in  this  way ;  it  will 
be  sufficient  for  me  to  have  turned  you  aside  from  those 
low  and  sensualizing  ways,  along  which,  I  see  so  ma- 
ny persons  of  rank  hurried,  from  the  want  of  a  due  ac- 
quaintance with  their  own  real  condition. 


THE   END. 


ill 

It 


Date  Due 

...   o,  p  •\'} 

■  -  fe 

Q     2  2       ■: 

•' 

-"-^m 

b' 

'•  r  u 

n-r  ihcrA 

^ 

^ 

PASCAL  M  - 

TtLoughts   on  religion. 


^2 


